This is the first of a new series for me. I've updated my
webpage a bit, with some new links in it.
My website is at http://www.geocities.com/WestHollywood/2525.
There you'll find out a little about me and where my stories are
archived. If you are an author of TG stories and you would like to put
a similar page up on that site, let me know.
This story is copyright 1997 by Stephanie. All rights
reserved. You may repost or store this story on your website as long
as the work is not altered or charged for.
As always, this is an adult story and it should not be read if
you are under the age of eighteen.
It's Hard to be a Man Part One
by
Stephanie
Amanda was waiting for Patrick when he got to her apartment.
He knew he was over two hours late, but he didn't really care.
She didn't look angry as she let him in, just resigned. "What
did I ever see in you?"
"I'm sorry," he said without any real conviction.
"You don't make any effort at all, do you?" Amanda said hotly.
"You just waltz in at any old hour and expect me to accept it."
"I said I'm sorry," Patrick replied irritably, "what more do
you want?"
"You've been turning up later and later for weeks! I'm sick and
tired of hearing your feeble excuses when you cancel."
Patrick smiled and rather belatedly tried to turn on the charm.
"Look, you know how busy I am with my job. I don't get the money I do
without a lot of work. I don't think you realise how hard it is to be a
man these days. There are a million things a guy like me has to do to be
successful."
Amanda was having none of it. "Well, you can go be successful
with someone else. We're through."
"Amanda..."
"No! That's enough! Just get out!"
Patrick had enough sense to realise he had gone too far. If he
tried to push it any further she'd only start throwing furniture. He
shrugged, "fair enough." With that he turned and walked out of the
apartment.
Amanda seethed. She only had herself to blame. In the early
days of her relationship she had been swept off her feet by Patrick.
Initially, he had seemed a good catch. He had a good job with excellent
prospects. He was handsome and spent quite a lot of time in the gym
each day. In retrospect that was the problem with Patrick. He only
really cared about himself.
She could see that their break-up had been inevitable. Amanda
walked over to the window. She looked down and saw Patrick walking along
the street to his car. He didn't even seem to be that bothered that he'd
just broken up with her.
Amanda looked up and saw a shooting star flare briefly in the
night sky. "Hard to be a man?" she said bitterly. "I wish he did find it
hard to be one!"
Down on the street Patrick saw something blink in the night sky.
He looked around, but saw nothing. He shrugged and continued walking
back to his car. He was actually glad that Amanda had broken up with
him. Over the past week or so he had become more and more bored with
her. She had started moaning and whining all the time. She was never
satisfied.
To hell with her! It was Saturday night and there was no way he
was going to spend it alone. He reached his car and sped off.
There was a nightclub that Patrick knew. He had used it for one
night stands before and he knew he'd find a pretty girl there. He found
a spot to park and headed towards the club. As usual it was packed.
Patrick made his way through the crowd and bought a drink.
Already, he was on the lookout for any girls who were around
with no obvious boyfriends nearby. He knew that with his good clothes
and handsome appearance, he had a natural edge.
He had been honing his technique since his early teens and he
prided himself as being an expert at it. To be honest, though, the type
of woman he was going for that night wouldn't be that hard to catch.
Patrick soon found himself talking to a young woman who was
probably barely over twenty, ten years younger than himself. She was
exactly what he was looking for in a one night stand. Generous figure
and no inhibitions.
Two hours of half-shouted conversation later Patrick and the
girl were leaving for his apartment. He managed to drive back despite
feeling a little drunk. He had moderated his drinking for the night so
he'd be able to drive, while his girl had knocked back hers in quick
succession. However, he was feeling the effects of the drink far more
than he normally did.
They helped each other into Patrick's apartment building and
over to the elevator. As they rode up to Patrick's floor they kissed
and fondled each other. Patrick was feeling worse now. He was barely
able to walk straight and his clothes felt uncomfortable and ill-fitting.
The girl, whose name he had already forgotten, had to guide his
hand to get the key in the door.
She had to find his bedroom herself and carry him to it. This
wasn't quite how she had imagined her evening would turn out. With some
effort she managed to get him onto the bed.
She noticed with disgust that he seemed to be totally
unconscious. So much for her night of passion. She meandered around the
apartment. It was quite spacious and expensively furnished. Pity its
owner couldn't hold his drink.
She went back to the bedroom. Patrick was on his back, snoring
quietly. She decided to see if she could bring him back to life with
direct stimulation.
She unbuckled his pants and yanked them down. The boxer shorts
quickly followed. She stopped dead and stared in disbelief at the sight
before her.
Well, that just wraps up a perfect evening, she thought
disgustedly. What a waste of time.
She scrawled a note for Patrick by the telephone and took enough
money for a taxi and a little extra for her wasted journey. She dialled
for a taxi and left.
Back in the bedroom, Patrick was fast asleep.
The morning was mostly gone when he finally woke up. He squinted
at the sunlight flooding through the windows. It took him nearly a
minute to work out where he was.
Searching his memory he remembered bringing a girl home with him
the night before. He lifted his head and looked down at himself. He was
still wearing his clothes. Patrick's head started throbbing so he
dropped it back onto the bed.
Don't tell me I passed out, he thought. I must be getting old!
He racked his memory, trying to remember him and the girl having sex,
but no such memory surfaced. God, how embarrassing!
He concentrated on keeping his body stable as he got off the
bed. Slowly and carefully, he staggered to the medicine cabinet in the
bathroom. Patrick took some headache tablets, and then stared blearily
at himself in the mirror.
He rested there and waited for the pounding in his head to go
down a bit before returning to bed. He wondered how he had got so drunk
so easily. It wasn't like him.
Patrick opened his eyes and looked again at his reflection. He
frowned at the mirror. His reflection looked wrong somehow. He blinked
and looked again. His bleary-eyed face stared back at him. It must just
have been his imagination, he decided.
He leaned against the washbasin until the world stopped
spinning. After a few minutes, his headache receded a little. Then he
headed to the kitchen to make himself a really strong cup of coffee.
As he waited for the water to boil he started to feel a little
better. Maybe he had eaten something bad the day before. He certainly
hadn't drunk enough to feel this bad.
The kettle switched off and he went to lift it. He stopped and
frowned at his hand. It didn't seem right somehow. It seemed to be
smaller and more refined. Patrick felt a stab of fear. His hand didn't
look like that! His was broader and rougher looking.
He looked down at his hand again. It was back to normal. What
the hell was going on? He finished making his coffee and moved into the
main room.
Patrick collapsed into a chair and sipped at his drink. He
thought back to the differences he had noticed in his face and hand.
They had looked more feminine, he realized. Although they looked and
felt perfectly normal now.
That was ludicrous. It must just be an affect of the alcohol.
He leaned back and relaxed. Patrick dozed for a few minutes while the
pills took effect.
When he woke up again he felt much better. He also felt
strangely different. He looked down at himself. His mind struggled with
what it saw.
His expensive clothes no longer fitted him. His trousers were
too tight, but his belt was loose. Patrick's eyes were riveted in horror
at the unmistakable swelling under his shirt.
I'm dreaming, he thought, I have to be dreaming! His hands flew
to his chest and cupped the mounds. Then his hands scrabbled at his
shirt and ripped it open, revealing the creamy mounds that lay beneath.
There was no doubt, he had breasts! Large, female breasts!
"No!" he shouted in terror. That wasn't his voice! Even that had
been somehow changed. It was now higher, feminine.
Patrick shoved his hand between his legs, but he already knew
what he would find. The familiar bulge had gone, to be replaced by a
more discreet mound. He had run his fingers over many like it in his
time, but he had never expected to find one there.
His shaking hands took some time to get his pants open. As he
frantically tried to get them open, he was acutely aware of the jiggling
sensation coming from his chest. Finally, he got his pants undone and
his hand inside his boxers.
One touch was all he needed to confirm his worst fears. He
jerked his hand away and stared up at the ceiling. He was almost crying
from fear. How could this happen? All signs of manhood had totally
vanished and been replaced by soft femininity.
In one motion he jumped to his feet, pushed his pants and boxers
off and ran to the bedroom mirror. He stood shivering looking at the
terrified girl in the mirror. Her face was similar to his normal male
one, but the nose was smaller. Her chin was more delicate and the skin
had obviously never grown a beard. Her eyebrows were more refined and
her eyes seemed larger. Her hair was much longer, falling in a blond
wave halfway down her back.
Patrick's gaze went lower. The girl was wearing a man's shirt,
but it was open revealing her abundant breasts. Her nipples were large,
dark and inviting. He looked lower. His eyes sliding over her thin waist
which flared out into her wide hips. Down to the triangle of pubic hair
between her thighs. Clearly visible through that mat were the lips of
her vagina.
He gulped when he saw that. His manhood, his pride and joy, was
gone! Patrick tore his eyes away and looked even farther down. She had
sexy smooth legs, very long and shapely. Even her feet seemed smaller
and more delicate.
He closed his eyes and almost collapsed. This was impossible!
There was no technology that could do that to him so quickly! He tried
to remember the way he had been. The strong muscular body that had so
recently been his.
A strange crawling sensation passed over his body and he jerked
his eyes open to see what was happening now. He looked in the mirror
and saw his old self. Patrick cried out in relief and it took some time
for him to regain control.
After he calmed down he started to worry. Was he losing his
mind? Had that girl drugged him the night before? Patrick looked round
his apartment, but he could find nothing missing. So he hadn't been
robbed.
He did find a terse note stuck on the telephone. He read it and
then frowned in confusion. It simply said 'I don't go with girls. Even
ones that look as male as you do.' What on Earth was she on about?
Unless...
But that was impossible. He had just hallucinated. He hadn't
really changed shape. So why did she think he was a girl? He shook his
head and pulled his shirt off. What he needed was a bracing shower to
wake himself up. He was about to leave the bedroom when he felt the
crawling sensation on his skin. He felt a fresh stab of fear as he
looked back in the mirror.
His features were changing again! The girl he had seen in the
mirror before was returning. His body quickly became smooth and feminine
again. He shook his head in disbelief and felt his long hair brushing on
his bare back.
This couldn't be a drug induced hallucination. It was too real
and the note made perfect sense now. Patrick's heart was hammering as he
stared at the nude girl in the mirror. His eyes were drawn to the blond
triangle between his legs.
Curiosity overcame him and he reached down with one slim hand to
explore. Just before his fingers reached his strange new anatomy, the
doorbell sounded.
Patrick jumped in the air at the sound and it took a real effort
to stop himself from panicking. What was he going to do? He couldn't let
anyone see him like this, even if it was just some strange delusion. He
had managed to change himself back into his normal form once before. If
he could just remember how, everything would be okay.
Wait a minute, he thought to himself. This could prove to be a
good test to see if this is just a hallucination. He quickly pulled on
his bathrobe. He did it up tight so whoever it was at the door wouldn't
see anything Patrick didn't want them to. He reached up and pulled his
hair free of the bathrobe. The doorbell rang again.
Patrick took a deep calming breath, causing his breasts to rub
against the soft fabric of the bathrobe and then he headed towards the
door. The door's spyhole seemed to be a little higher up than he was
used to. Through it he could see a bored delivery man with a package.
Patrick suddenly remembered about the documents that were being sent to
him. He was supposed to go through them before the meeting the next day.
He hesitated before opening the door. Did he really want to do
this? No, was the answer, but he had to find out if other people saw him
as a woman or as a man. Whether he was going mad, or he had really
turned into a girl. He opened the door. "Yes," he said in a high and
rather frightened voice.
"I've a package for a Mr Patrick Zimmerman."
"I'm afraid I'm the only one here at the moment," that much was
true. "Can I help?" The man's eyes were wandering over every inch of
Patrick's body and it was pretty obvious what the man was thinking.
"This needs to be signed by Mr Zimmerman. It's confidential you
see, Miss."
"I don't know when he'll be back. Why don't I just sign it.
No-one will know."
The delivery man shrugged and handed him the form. Patrick
scrawled an illegible signature and handed it back to the man.
"Thanks, Miss. Have a good day." The man said.
Patrick nodded and retreated back into the apartment. He clasped
the package to his breasts and breathed heavily. He dropped the package
on the table and headed back to the bedroom. There was no doubt about
it, the delivery man had seen a woman, not a man. So this change was
really happening. Either that or he had gone totally insane. That wasn't
worth considering. If he had gone that far over the edge, nothing
mattered anymore anyway.
He looked in the mirror and concentrated on his normal male
form. He watched in relief as his hair retreated to it's normal length
and his normal gender was restored. He felt his cock and balls in relief
and sat down. There was no doubt now that his was really happening, but
what had caused it? More importantly, what could he do to stop it
happening again?
He was sweating from his recent encounter and decided that he
really needed that shower. Patrick went to the bathroom and set it
running full blast and just stood under the jets. He looked down and
opened his eyes. Through the torrent of water he could see his breasts.
He had changed into a girl again! Was this going to keep happening?
Every time he relaxed was his body going to turn female?
He was about to concentrate on an image of his male self, but
something held him back. He didn't have to change back straight away.
He caressed his body and ran his hands down over his soft, curving
stomach. Patrick hesitated before sending his hand down to his vagina.
It felt rather disturbing to touch himself between his legs and not
feel his penis. Instead of his manhood that would get hard and
penetrate, he now had a vagina that would be penetrated. He now had
equipment designed to receive men's cocks into his body and milk
their sperm.
Patrick spread his legs a little wider to get better access.
His fingers brushed against his clitoris and he gasped. That was as
sensitive as the head of his penis was. He ran a finger over the lips
of his vagina before he dared to explore further. Slowly his finger
edged into the damp, warm passage. It felt like any normal pussy he had
touched in his time, but he had never felt it from the woman's point of
view before. He could feel the finger pressing into his body. Patrick
shivered with excitement.
His nipples started to tingle and he raised his other hand to
them. They were already erect and the merest touch sent sparks of desire
through him. They were so sensitive, far more than his male nipples
were. He groaned, and the sound of a female in heat turned him on even
more.
Patrick removed the shower head from it's holder on the wall and
pressed it between his legs. He sprayed the hot jets of water against
his aroused pussy causing it to tingle even more. That felt very good.
He leaned back against the wall of the shower and started massaging
himself in earnest.
He rubbed the length of the shower head against the lips of his
vagina. In his imagination the shower head was a cock which was about to
spear him. In seconds his imaginary lover would push Patrick onto his
back and fuck him. He could feel himself rapidly approaching his first
female orgasm. Patrick dropped the shower head and pushed all the
fingers of one hand inside himself.
The feeling of penetration in this strange new place sent him
over the edge. His orgasm smashed on him like a tidal wave. His legs
gave way and he slid to the floor as the fantastic feeling rocketed
through him. Every single part of his body resonated with his powerful
orgasm. He sat on the floor, one hand slowly stroking his nipple,
enjoying the erotic sensations that seemed to take forever to die away.
Had he cried out during his orgasm? He couldn't be sure, but he
seemed to remember uttering a piercing shriek as his orgasm had hit him.
So, he thought to himself, I'm a screamer, not a moaner. As far as
Patrick was concerned, all women fell into one of those two categories
when they had sex.
That reminded him of the fantasy he'd had when he masturbated.
That the shower head was a man's penis. Patrick's good mood evaporated
in an instant. He had never fantasized about men before. Was he turning
queer? He closed his eyes and concentrated on an image of his male
form. He felt his soft breast sink and disappear under his hand, to be
replaced by the hard pectoral he was used to.
He got out of the shower and looked at his pale face in the
mirror. This transformation was affecting his mind somehow, he was sure
of it. Now he was back to his normal self, but he knew that would last
only a few minutes. Then his body would once again turn into a girl's.
The orgasm had cleared his mind and he realized how bad his situation
really was. He had to find a way to stop this horrible transformation
before he climbed into bed with another man.
Before he could do all that, he had to work out who had done
this to him and how. Was it Amanda's doing? He couldn't believe she
was capable of inflicting a curse like that on him, but then someone
had to be responsible. It couldn't be a coincidence that this started
happening immediately after they broke up.
He dried himself off and headed to the bedroom. He still had an
almighty hangover, but that paled into insignificance against the shock
he had received that morning. He hurriedly dressed in jeans and a shirt.
If Amanda was somehow behind this he'd make her pay. His shirt was
getting tight and he realized his large breasts were returning. Was he
going to spend the rest of his life stopping himself from changing into
a woman?
Patrick checked himself in the mirror to make sure that he was
fully male and headed down to his car. He got increasingly angry as he
drove to Amanda's place. How dare she do whatever she had done to him!
Patrick swore he'd make her pay.
He had to go slower than he was used to going. He'd almost
crashed his car when he had started to change again. By the time he
reached Amanda's apartment he was by turns furious and scared. Patrick
marched up to the door to her apartment and hammered on it. "I know
you're in there, Amanda! Open up!"
Finally, he heard movement on the other side and the door opened
a crack. "What the hell do you want now?" she asked bitterly.
Patrick pushed the door wide open. "How did you do it?"
"Do what?" she replied. She was starting to feel frightened.
Patrick was clearly very incensed about something.
"This!" Patrick had begun to feel the by now familiar crawling
sensation as his body was replaced by another. This time he didn't stop
it and allowed himself to become totally female.
Amanda watched in total disbelief as Patrick's shirt started to
expand. She could see the forms growing under the shirt, but she
couldn't believe her own eyes. Within seconds, the shirt grew very tight
and two large nipples were clearly visible through the fabric. The shirt
could take the strain no longer and two buttons flew off revealing his
extremely feminine cleavage. In mere seconds her ex-lover had turned
into a woman directly in front of her! She backed away and screamed in
horror.
Patrick stopped dead in his tracks as Amanda collapsed. This was
the last reaction he had been expecting. He had thought she would either
laugh at him or feign ignorance. He walked over to her, but stopped when
he felt his breasts bouncing in his shirt. He concentrated on regaining
his form.
He had just managed that when the door of another apartment down
the hall burst open and a woman came running out. "What's going on?
Amanda!" She rushed past Patrick and went to Amanda.
Amanda tried to fight clear of the woman, until she realized it
wasn't Patrick. Both turned to look at Patrick, one in fear and one in
anger.
"What did you do to her, you bastard?!" the woman shouted at him.
Patrick was acutely aware of how bad this looked, but he
couldn't see any easy way out. "I didn't do anything, she just screamed."
"H-he's a g-girl!" Amanda said in a very shaky voice.
"What?" the other woman said. "Did he hit you?"
"N-no, he just t-turned into a girl!" Amanda repeated.
The other woman looked up, a little less sure of herself. "You'd
better leave," she told Patrick coldly.
"Yeah, perhaps I should. Sorry, Amanda, I hope you're alright
soon."
It took Amanda quite some time to calm down after Patrick left.
She could remember quite clearly what she thought had happened, but
there was no way that was possible. Patrick had been replaced by a woman
right in front of her eyes.
That simply wasn't possible.
Carol, who had come to her rescue when she had screamed,
suggested it might have been shock due to seeing her ex-boyfriend.
Amanda was rather dubious of that explanation. Patrick had been a
bastard, sure, but he had never laid a finger on her. Their relationship
had fallen apart simply because he couldn't care less about her. Amanda
couldn't think of a better explanation, though. She must have freaked
out at seeing Patrick, for some reason, and imagined his strange
transformation.
A dozen miles away, Patrick sat in his car and tried to work
things out. His hangover had gotten worse from having to concentrate on
stopping his body transforming all the time. So he had parked the car
and let himself turn female for a while.
He resolutely stared ahead, so he wouldn't catch sight of his
massively changed body. Though, he was all too aware of the weight of
his breasts, of his long hair spilling past his neck, and the lack of
that most important piece of his anatomy.
It was clear Amanda didn't have a clue what was going on. She
wasn't that good an actress to fool him. So who was responsible? It
could be the work of someone else he had slept with. However, half of
those women wouldn't talk with him and he had no idea how to find the
other half. As much as he hated the idea, he was going to have to wait
until his tormentor made contact.
A strand of golden hair fell in front of his face. He pushed it
out of the way in irritation. As he brought his arm down, it brushed
against one of his mammaries. He cursed and concentrated on his male
form. His true body formed out of his female one.
He was going to beat this curse inflicted on him. If it was the
last thing he did!
Patrick wearily walked back into his apartment. It was barely a
couple of hours past noon, but he could easily say this was already the
worst day of his life. He felt his body start to change and he had to
concentrate for a moment to stop it. Perhaps the worst thing about his
situation was that he had no idea what to do now. The only person he
could think was responsible clearly had no knowledge of it.
He wasn't that hungry, but he fixed a small lunch for himself
anyway. As he ate it, he looked out the window at the street below.
Somewhere out there was the person responsible for his strange
affliction, but he could do nothing until she contacted him.
He had a terrible headache from his hangover, and from having to
concentrate every couple of minutes to stop himself changing. He groaned
as he saw the package that had arrived that morning. Patrick had an
important meeting at work next day and he had planned to spend Sunday
getting up to speed.
Well, it wasn't going to be fun, but he needed something to
take his mind off his hopeless position. He couldn't afford to let his
job go to hell, even if the rest of his life was wrecked. Eventually
he'd find out who was responsible for his transformations and he'd force
them to stop it. This wouldn't be forever. It couldn't be forever. He
spent his entire adult life climbing the corporate ladder and he
couldn't let his career fail now.
Patrick sat down and opened the parcel. Inside were several
dozen documents that he needed to be up to date on by the meeting the
next day. He found it nearly impossible to concentrate on them. Partly
because of the worry gnawing at the back of his mind, and partly due to
having to fight down each attempted transformation.
Finally, he threw down the document and leaned back in the
chair. Why me? he asked himself as he stared at the ceiling. What have I
done to deserve this? He felt his body start to shift yet again and this
time he let it. His shirt had already lost a couple of buttons from the
last time he had transformed. Even so, it grew tight around his chest as
his soft breasts inflated.
His jeans felt way too tight, and he reached down to release
them. The waistband was loose. It was his wide hips that were causing
the problem. With a little difficulty, he managed to pull the jeans off.
He sat back down wearing just his boxers and shirt. Patrick knew he was
stuck with this hateful feminine body if he wanted to be able to
concentrate on the documents. He picked up the folder he had been
reading and tried to concentrate. It was difficult at first; the strange
feeling of his body distracted him. Slowly, however, he was drawn into
the document. He had always had a flair for marketing. It was this
ability that had got him as far as it had. He headed a marketing team
at the Ross-Shimura Corporation and took home a good deal of money.
Over the next hour he made his way through all the documents.
Already, he was getting ideas on how to organize the campaign. He became
so wrapped up in the files, that he only remembered he was in a female
body when he reached up to scratch his head. His hand brushed the long
hair on his head and he instantly remembered his condition.
He got up and went back to the bedroom. He spent many long
minutes observing his face in the mirror, observing every small detail.
He did, in fact, make a very beautiful woman. Someone who he would
definitely try to sleep with if he ever met. That could never happen,
of course.
Also, he would have to take care that he never lost control
again. He shuddered when he remembered the fantasy he had had in the
shower. He still couldn't believe he had fantasized about having sex
with a man. Despite all that, his gloom was lifting a little. He had
got over the initial shock and the knowledge that he could turn himself
male at any time helped.
Patrick wondered what it would be like to go out in his female
form. He'd have to wear more than the boxer shorts he had on now.
Amanda's clothes! He had completely forgotten about them in the horror
of the morning.
During the early days of their relationship, Amanda would often
stay over the weekend at his apartment. Patrick disliked her doing that,
because it meant he couldn't go out looking for one night stands if he
wanted to. He disliked the idea of ever settling down with just one
woman. He knew he'd be climbing the walls inside of a week if that ever
happened. So he had slowly persuaded Amanda not to stay there at
weekends.
While she had been staying at his place she would often leave a
small stash of her clothes. That way she could go straight to Patrick's
apartment from her workplace without bothering to pack a suitcase.
The idea of actually wearing her clothes unsettled him a little,
but he reassured himself that it was only a little fun. It's not like he
was some sort of transvestite, after all, since he was female at that
moment.
He pulled the clothes out of the drawer and sorted them out on
the bed. In all, there were three sets of underwear, a light, cotton
dress, a tight leather skirt and a top that was barely more than a bra.
Amanda loved night-clubs and he always felt she dressed provocatively
for them. It was one of the thing that attracted Patrick to her in the
first place.
He pushed off his boxers and selected the first bit of her
clothes to try on. He picked up one of the panties at random. It was the
usual lace and silk type that women wore. Should he really be doing
this? He didn't want to encourage his more feminine side after the
incident in the shower. Surely it didn't matter that much? Anyway, he
could always change back before he got carried away again. This time
he'd be ready for it.
Carefully, he stepped into the panties and pulled them up his
shapely, smooth legs. The cool fabric fitted snugly around his strange
new crotch. He looked at the panties in the mirror. They fitted well and
looked good on him. He ran his hand over his silk covered bottom. They
felt much finer than his boxer shorts.
Patrick turned to the bra, but quickly rejected it. He knew what
outfit he wanted to try. He picked up the short, black leather skirt. It
was almost indecently short. He stepped into it and managed to work it
up around his hips. Patrick had trouble doing it up, until he realized
that a woman's waistline was higher than a man's. He pulled the skirt up
some more and managed to do it up. It fitted him like a second skin and
accentuated the curve of his hips. It restricted his movement a little.
He knew he'd have to careful how he sat with it on, so that he didn't
expose himself to the world.
He rejected the bra and went straight for the white top. It also
proved difficult to get on. Doing the clasp up at the back wasn't
something he was used to. Also the top was designed for someone with a
smaller bust than his. He found he had a strange pride in being better
endowed than his ex-girlfriend.
Finally, he managed it and turned to see what he looked like. He
definitely needed a larger top. This one was a bit too small. Amanda was
a B cup, that meant he had to be up in the C or D size. He thought that
the way his breasts were squeezed into the top made him look like a
hooker.
He started striking provocative poses and blowing kisses to the
mirror. "I'm one sexy broad," he declared out loud. This was the first
time he had really listened to his female voice. It sounded as sexy as
the rest of him looked.
It was only then he realized he was getting turned on by his own
image. He walked back into the main room and flicked on the TV. He tried
to sit as he normally did, with his legs wide apart. He quickly found
his skirt wouldn't let him do that. He finally got comfortable by
curling his legs under him.
He flipped through the channels until he came to some trashy TV
movie. He didn't care about the plot, but he found himself watching a
scene with a man and a woman set on a beach. Both were wearing skimpy
swimming costumes that left little to the imagination. Patrick had to
admit she was very good looking, and the man wasn't bad either. In fact,
it looked like he was hung like a horse.
As he watched the TV program, Patrick started to daydream. He
imagined himself on that beach, looking up at the masculine hunk of a
man in front of him. The couple kissed and Patrick felt envious as the
woman ran her hands over the man's body.
He wondered what it would be like to wrap himself around that
muscular body and be impaled on that large manhood. His hands drifted to
his breasts almost of their own volition and started to rub his nipples
through his top. A warm liquid sensation spread through his crotch.
As he rubbed his hard, aching nipples, Patrick's fantasy grew.
He imagined that he was the man's girlfriend. He could almost feel the
man's strong hands caressing him, and then holding him down as they made
rough and passionate love.
Patrick was almost at the point of orgasm just from stroking his
breasts. He was imagining what it would feel like to be penetrated when
he finally realized what he was thinking.
"No!" he shouted in a voice thick with fear and lust. He leapt
off the couch and concentrated on his male self with all his willpower.
He was so close to his climax at this point that it was set off mearly
by his cock rubbing against his skirt as it grew.
His orgasm was so powerful that he almost keeled over as he
pumped his seed into his panties. He collapsed onto the couch until he
had got his breath back. Patrick was painfully aware of how easily he
had lost control again. If he was going to survive this, he'd have to
learn to control himself when female.
He got to his feet and went to the bathroom. The female clothes
looked absurd on his male frame. He pulled them off as quickly as
possible. His panties were sticky with his cum and his female juices. He
threw them away in disgust. As he cleaned himself off he felt really
disgusted. Why couldn't he control himself as a female? Was it because
he wasn't used to the female body and emotions? Or was it some aspect of
the curse that had transformed him?
Patrick was certain that whichever woman from his past was
responsible for this wouldn't wait long before making herself known to
him. Once he knew who was responsible, he could start to fight back. All
he had to do was keep control of himself and wait.
For the rest of the day, Patrick made sure he stayed male. He
wouldn't give in, he couldn't give in. The alternative, succumbing to
life as a woman, was too hideous to contemplate. His hangover slowly
cleared up, but his headache got steadily worse.
He went to bed far earlier than he normally did. For the first
time in a long while he spent a weekend night alone. Patrick was
exhausted from the trauma of the day and he soon fell fast asleep.
He woke up feeling refreshed and relaxed when his alarm clock
sounded the next morning. Normally, he felt tense every Monday morning.
It was only when he reached over to switch the alarm clock off that he
felt his breasts shift on his chest. In an instant he was wide awake.
All at once, the memory of the horrific events of the previous
day flooded back. He couldn't even go to sleep without his body
rebelling and changing!
He lay on his back in the bed. He could call in sick, but he
knew that wasn't an option. If he didn't get out of the apartment and
do something soon, he'd go insane. Besides, he had an important meeting
that day. There was no way he was going to let it defeat him. He
wouldn't give his tormentor that satisfaction.
Patrick got up. He was all too aware of his wide hips swivelling
and his breasts bouncing as he walked. He spent several minutes in his
female form. As long as he was careful about what he thought about, he
could stop himself getting lost in a feminine fantasy, like he had twice
before.
He shifted back to his male self and quickly got himself ready
for work. The almost-familiar pressure of the change filled him every
few minutes, but he was able to fight it down with ease.
His problems started when he had to concentrate on doing
something other than just staying male. As he was driving into the city
down the crowded streets he realized he wasn't going to be able to spend
enough time stopping himself from changing and control the car. Unable
to give his full attention to his body, Patrick felt his legs starting
to change. The pedals of the car seemed to grow slightly further away
from him. He felt the strange pulling sensation in his crotch as he
turned female.
He couldn't let himself change here. What if someone saw him? By
now he could feel his shirt starting to grow tight. Patrick concentrated
on keeping his head and chest male.
Yes! It was working! By concentrating on a smaller part of his
body he could keep that male and drive at the same time. His hands were
more slender than his normal male ones and each finger was topped with a
long fingernail. That didn't matter, no-one could see that. As long as
he could keep his head and chest male, no-one would suspect anything.
Even so, Patrick was exhausted by the time he arrived at work.
His earlier optimism was dissipating. Was he going to have to apply this
effort every moment of his life, just to stay male?
His shoe fell off his foot as he got out of his car. He hastily
turned himself totally male and put his shoe back on. Most of his staff
had already made it into the office ahead of him that morning. Patrick
headed straight into his personal office with a strong coffee. He was
going to need to keep his wits about him today.
He looked out through the glass partition, that separated his
office from the main working area, at his team getting organized. They
would throw together their first impressions for the new campaign and
then they would present them to Patrick's boss in the afternoon. Patrick
hated working that way, but that was the way his boss liked to do
things. To get the honest first opinions, he would say.
Hank was trying it on with Susan again. Patrick had to smile at
his perseverance. Hank was Patrick's best friend in the office and the
two shared the same insatiable taste for women. Hank was a tall, dark
haired man. He had a hard muscular physique from long hours in the gym.
Susan was a smaller, but fiery, black woman. Susan was giving Hank the
usual ice-cold brush off. Patrick had told him on a dozen occasions that
he was never going to get anywhere with her. Hank had just replied that
Patrick was jealous and had his own designs on her.
The two other people who worked directly under Patrick were
concentrating on the product they were going to have to design a
campaign for. Albert was in his fifties and while he was good at his
job, Patrick found him utterly dull. Ian was in his early twenties and
showed excellent potential. Patrick thought he didn't put himself
forward enough, though, and he tended to be too quiet.
Patrick took a back seat during the brainstorming session in the
morning. Usually, he led from the front, but he was too preoccupied with
keeping his problem under tight control. The product they were working
on was a palmtop computer. The brief was to give it a wider appeal than
just the business user.
By lunch they had produced a few initial ideas. Susan went off
with Albert and Ian for lunch, pointedly ignoring a lewd offer made by
Hank.
"You're never going to get her that way, you know." Patrick told
him.
"I'm wearing her down," Hank replied confidently. "Soon she'll be
begging me for it."
"Yeah, right."
"You were quiet today. Is anything up?"
"No, no. Just a late night." Patrick said.
"Oh, I see? Amanda, is it?"
Patrick paused to fight down another transforming surge. "No, I
dumped her the other day. She was getting annoying."
"Do you want to get a beer?" Hank asked.
"Not really, I still haven't recovered from yesterday." That
much was true. "I'll go for a walk and clear my head before we meet
Jennings later."
Hank shrugged, "Okay."
Patrick watched him go. In many ways, Hank was his closest
friend, but Patrick could never share his problem with him. Hank just
wouldn't be able to cope with it. Patrick wasn't too sure he could cope
with it either. He left the office building and put on his sunglasses.
His headache was getting worse again. He promised himself that he'd go
home as soon as the meeting was over.
He hadn't gone out for some fresh air. There wasn't much of that
in the middle of the city, anyway. There was, however, one small little
shop he had passed a thousand times, but had never dreamed of entering.
It was a long shot, but it could provide him with all the answers he
needed.
It was a shop dealing with New Age and occult books and assorted
bits and pieces. Patrick looked at the peeling sign, which read 'The
Third Eye'. He had half a mind to just give up on the shop there and
then. How could this place provide anything useful?
Despite his misgivings, he entered the shop. It might seem to be
gibberish for the gullible, but the fact of the matter was that
something had been done to him. It was either a technology far in
advance of anything he had ever heard of, or magic. Patrick looked at
the books on the shelf, feeling really out of place in his suit and tie.
"Can I help you?" said a woman behind him.
Patrick turned to see a ginger haired woman in her forties
dressed in a hippie style outfit. "Ummm...no, I'm just looking."
"I can sense the duality in you," she told him. "I'm psychic,
you see." she explained.
"Uh huh," said Patrick sceptically.
"You are looking for something specific, aren't you?"
"I'm looking for something on physical transformations. Do you
have anything like that?"
"Let's see," she bustled past him and plucked three books,
seemingly at random, from the shelves. "This should be a good start," she
told him. "If you need anything specific, you come back and let me know,
okay?"
"Yeah, sure."
He bought the books and got out of the shop. He didn't want to
be seen carrying books on magic by his colleagues, especially Hank, so
he dropped them in his car before heading back to the office.
He took the few seconds on the elevator to try and relax. His
headache was getting almost unbearable from the concentration necessary
to stay male. His team was waiting for him and together they went to a
meeting room to present their ideas.
Patrick wasn't helped by the fact that his boss, Mr Jennings,
was several minutes late. His headache was worsening and he knew he
couldn't hold on much longer. As he waited, he relaxed control over the
lower half of his body. Almost immediately, his shoes seemed to grow in
size as his feet became daintier. His trousers grew tight as his hips
widened. When Jennings finally arrived, he stood to shake the man's
hand. He sat down again and was relived to see that no-one seemed to
have noticed his more curvier form.
He started outlining his team's ideas. Normally, he liked to
lead from the front and do most of the talking. Patrick knew that this
time he'd have to hold back and let the rest of his team take the strain.
Patrick had to concentrate on what he was saying and he was
aware that he was losing control over his body as he did so. "Susan's
idea for the SG-4300 is to aim it at the teenage market. There is
already a large market for cheaper, simpler gadgets and we feel the
upper end of this market could be exploited." Without warning his voice
cracked, and he said 'exploited' in a far higher tone than he wanted to.
He cleared his throat and apologized, blaming a cough he had. He
finished summarizing the plans and let each member of his team explain
their plans in detail. They were rather surprized by his move, as
Patrick usually monopolized meetings and they were luckily to get a word
in. They soon recovered and began explaining their ideas.
Patrick was in real pain now, and could barely keep his distress
hidden. Somehow, he managed to keep a calm look on his face until each
team member had put forward their ideas.
Jennings nodded approvingly, "I think Susan's and Ian's ideas
have the most potential and I'd like you to develop those for the time
being. I..." Jennings stopped and frowned at Patrick.
What's he looking at? thought Patrick. Then he felt his growing
breasts push against his shirt and he realized what was happening. He
quickly used all his willpower to reduce his breasts back down to their
normal male size.
Jennings blinked and rubbed his eyes. Then he seemed to dismiss
what he had seen and carry on with his speech. Patrick glanced around at
his team, but they had all been looking at Jennings, except for Ian, and
hadn't seen anything. Ian didn't look alarmed, so Patrick knew that
no-one but his boss had seen anything odd.
The meeting was over. With his last bit of mental energy he was
able to fully restore his male shape. Even so, as he walked with his
boss to the elevator, he could feel his control slipping. His feet were
feeling looser in his shoes and his body was taking on a curvier shape.
"Are you feeling alright?" Jennings asked.
"Just a little cough, I think," Patrick explained, "I'll be
fine."
Jennings could see that, whatever it was, it was more than just
a cold. He was privately pleased by Patrick's commitment to his job,
despite being obviously ill.
As soon as Jennings was gone, Patrick almost ran to the washroom
and locked himself in a cubicle. He remembered to undo some of the
buttons on his shirt as he transformed. He sat on the toilet in his
female form and gripped his throbbing head. For several long minutes he
sat there as his headache started to very slowly recede.
"Patrick? Are you okay?" It was Hank!
Patrick checked his watch. He had been in the toilet for over
fifteen minutes! He tried to shift back to his male self, so he could
speak, but his headache was still so strong that he couldn't concentrate
enough.
He pitched his voice low and said "Yeah, I'll be fine." He tried
to make his voice sound as masculine as possible, but he still sounded
like a girl trying a funny voice.
"Okay," Hank said, sounding uncertain.
Patrick ignored his headache and concentrated on getting himself
back in his male form. He was rewarded as his male form reappeared. He
did up his shirt and staggered out of the washroom.
"Man!" Hank remarked, "you look bad!"
"I feel it." Patrick replied. "I'm going home for the day. Make
sure you get started on the designs."
"Don't worry about that, you get home and lay off the booze for a
while."
Patrick managed to get back to his car before he lost control
over his form again. He had no hope of maintaining any part of his male
body now. He just hoped that he wouldn't be pulled over by the cops
while driving as a woman.
His headache was so bad, that he could barely concentrate enough
to drive. He drove slowly, and carefully, home. The severe headache
helped to distract him from his curvy, feminine body. Patrick made it
home without incident and soon he was back in the safety of his
apartment. He walked wearily into the bathroom and splashed cold water on
his face. He looked at the blonde bombshell in the mirror wearing an
ill-fitting man's suit.
He couldn't even go one whole day without losing control. His
headache would take hours to go down. Patrick knew he'd have to spend
the rest of the day as a woman if wanted to have any hope of surviving
the next day. Even then, his chances were slim.
Patrick despaired. What was he going to do now? He couldn't
survive like this!
Even with headache tablets, it was some time until Patrick's
head stopped throbbing painfully. He knew he was stuck in his female
form until the next morning at least while he waited for his headache
to recede.
His suit was uncomfortable on his feminine frame, so he stripped
and put on a bathrobe. Patrick remembered the way he had lost control
the last two times he had been female for any long period. He would just
have to be very careful to monitor his thoughts and not let his new body
run away with him again.
On the way out of the bathroom, Patrick noticed the three books
he had bought from the occult store near his office. He picked them up
and settled on the couch to read them.
He found it hard to believe anything the books said. As far as
their authors were concerned, magic was real and mythical creatures like
werewolves existed. He would never have even bothered trying to make
sense of them if he hadn't been transformed by some unknown power.
Even so, Patrick quickly became annoyed at the books. They
simply repeated legends and myths from around the world. The only
interesting information he found was on the legend of the were-woman.
This story appeared to have come from England well over a thousand years
before. Apart from the fact that a man became a woman, it wasn't really
that similar to his problem. A man afflicted with that curse only had to
worry about becoming a woman during a full moon, not all the time like
he did. He was going to have to investigate other avenues. The 'magic'
idea was plainly a stupid one.
Patrick spent the rest of the day watching the TV. He stuck to
the news channels and avoided anything that might inflame his female
side. Even so, he caught himself eyeing up several of the male presenters
of various shows. This time he was aware of what was happening and he
could mentally stop it. Even if that meant turning male for a few
minutes. When his headache had subsided a little, he turned his crotch
male. It meant his headache would probably last a little longer, but at
least he'd be male where it counted.
By the early evening he was getting a bit stir crazy. Normally,
he'd be out at some nightclub or other trying to find a partner for the
evening. He couldn't risk that lifestyle again until he could keep
control of his body.
He was full of nervous energy and he continually paced the whole
length of his apartment. All the time trying to ignore the strange
sensations he was getting from his body as it rubbed against the
bathrobe. Something was niggling his memory about that occult shop. What
was it the woman had said? 'I sense the duality in you.' Yes, that was
what she had said. It was only now that he realized the importance of
that statement.
She knew! Somehow, she was aware of his transformation problem!
He checked his watch, which was hanging loose on his wrist. It
was seven-thirty. That shop was probably long shut by now, but maybe
she'd still be there. This wasn't something that could wait until the
next day. He knew he'd have to drive there as a woman, but he decided
against wearing any of Amanda's clothes. He found a pair of jeans that
weren't stretched too tight across his hips and a white T-shirt.
He wished he had a bra that did fit him. He didn't want to wear
such a feminine garment, but he really needed it. His breasts attracted
too much attention loose under his T-shirt and his nipples were clearly
visible through the thin material, but it couldn't be helped.
Patrick drove carefully back to the shop. All the way he wanted
to put his foot down and get there as fast as possible, but he managed
to control himself. There had to be something to this magic thing after
all. How else could the woman in the shop have known what was happening
to him? The question was: would she help him?
It didn't look hopeful as he parked in the alley. The main shop
was in darkness, but he could see a light coming from a rear room. He
walked up to the shop door and knocked loudly on it. Patrick waited and
was about to hammer again on the door when he saw someone moving in the
shop. The figure turned on the lights and moved over to the door. It was
the ginger-haired woman! Patrick sighed in relief.
She looked through the door and peered at Patrick. "What do you
want? We're shut!"
"I need to talk to you! It's really important."
The woman looked undecided for a moment. Then she opened the door
and let Patrick in. Patrick realized that she probably wouldn't have
opened the door to a man. She immediately locked and bolted the door
behind him. "So, what's up?" she asked.
"Don't you recognize me? I was here about noon."
The woman frowned. "I don't think so. I've only had three people
come in all day and none of them looked anything like you, girl."
"Well, I looked quite different then. You said that you sensed
the duality in me."
If anything, the woman looked more puzzled. Patrick would have
thought she would have remembered him. She had noticed his problem after
all. "I'm sorry, I haven't seen you before in my life." she said.
Patrick thought for a moment. Should he risk it? Why not? He had
nothing to lose. "Perhaps you remember me like this." With that, he
concentrated and his body began to change. His hair withdrew into his
head and his breasts shrunk and disappeared.
The woman's eyes widened to the point where Patrick thought
they'd pop out of her head. She staggered backwards and collapsed into a
chair. She continued to stare at him in utter shock.
Not again, thought Patrick. It was obvious he'd made another
miscalculation. She had no idea about his condition either. "You didn't
know about this, did you?" he asked her.
The woman shook her head slowly.
"When you said you sensed the duality in me, I assumed you
really were psychic. That you knew all about me."
"I am psychic," she retorted as she regained some of her
composure, "it's just that I don't use it that often."
"So that was just sales talk?" Patrick said, aghast.
"Yes. I'm sorry, dear." She paused. "What...kind of creature are
you? If you don't mind me asking."
"Human! I just started changing sex yesterday and I don't know
what's causing it."
"...and you came here looking for help?"
"Yes, I don't know what else to do." Patrick spilled out the
whole story to her, but leaving out the parts where he lost control of
his female body. He hated feeling this helpless, but he had no choice
but to ask this woman for help.
"Patrick," she declared when he had finished, "I'm going to do
everything I can to help you. My name is Abigail, by the way. Can you
change yourself again?"
"I'm going to have to. If I want to stay male all tomorrow, I'll
have to be a woman tonight."
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Ian checked his watch as he left the Ross-Shimura building. It
was already gone eight. He'd been working hard with Susan all day and
tomorrow would be just as hectic. That was the problem with being the
junior in the office. You tended to end up with all the boring,
time-consuming jobs.
He got on his motorbike and started to head home. Ian had barely
got on the road when he saw something that made him pull over again.
Wasn't that his boss's car parked down an alley? Patrick had disappeared
that afternoon claiming to be ill. So why was his car parked there? Ian
turned and drove into the alley. After parking the bike, he went over to
the car. Only one shop in the alley was lit.
Ian was surprised to see Patrick in an Occult shop talking to a
woman. Ian's boss didn't seem to be the type that would go in for that
sort of thing. Ian moved forward for a closer look.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Ok," Patrick said, "here it comes."
Abigail watched him intently as his form changed in front of
her. His face shifted and in seconds was utterly feminine. His T-shirt
ballooned as his breasts rapidly grew. She watched, fascinated, as the
hair on his arms withdrew into his skin and his frame became curvier.
Patrick pushed his long blonde hair out of his eyes and looked
at Abigail. She was totally astounded. Hesitantly, she reached out and
ran her hand along Patrick's arm. The hair had almost completely gone.
Apart from the downy hairs most woman had, the arm was totally smooth.
Patrick shivered at her touch. He concentrated on not loosing
control. He was disturbed when he realized it was easier to keep control
because Abigail was female.
"I still can't believe it," Abigail said. She studied every part
of Patrick's female body. It was impossible to tell he was anything other
than female.
"I don't blame you," Patrick's feminine tones replied. "I
thought I was going mad when it first happened to me. So, what's our
first step?"
"First step? Oh, yes, ummmm... We have to find out who did this
to you, and how and why. I'll look into the first two and you should
start thinking about the third. I keep my own books upstairs. You can
give me a hand to look."
Patrick followed her up a narrow staircase. Abigail's apartment
lay directly above the shop and was crowded with all sorts of strange
artwork and furniture. One wall was taken up with a large bookcase.
Abigail took two books from it and handed one to Patrick.
"What am I looking for?" he asked as he opened the book.
"Anything that seems to relate to your...condition." she replied.
"Don't you know what we're looking for?"
"No, magic doesn't obey many laws. It's permutations are nearly
endless, but if we can find out how it was done that will narrow down
the possibilities of who did it."
Abigail was ecstatic. She found it hard to concentrate on the
books and she was constantly glancing up at the blonde woman in the
other chair. She had believed in magic and the paranormal all her life,
but here at last was definite proof that it really existed.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
The bartender looked at the shell-shocked young man. "What'll it
be?"
"Uh, a whisky," the man replied. "No, make that a double...
triple." Ian stopped and calmed himself. "Just give me the bottle."
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Patrick spent most of the evening going through dozens of books.
He found very little that he thought was relevant, but Abigail said
she'd check them out anyway.
Abigail was convinced that Amanda was at least partly responsible
for Patrick's strange transformation. Patrick wasn't convinced. He still
remembered the look of utter surprise and horror on her face when he had
transformed in front of her.
Even so, Abigail made him tell her everything he knew about
Amanda. Patrick didn't think it would help, but he answered all of her
questions as best he could.
It was getting close to midnight when Patrick arrived back home.
He had two reasons to celebrate that night. Firstly, he had found
someone who could help him, and, secondly, he had spent the whole
afternoon and evening almost completely as a woman without giving in to
his female desires.
He undressed and slipped into his bed. He ran his hand over his
strangely smooth, curving belly and up to where his two breasts
blossomed. He doubted he would ever get used to this body. With any luck,
he wouldn't have to. He'd made a great deal of progress today. It
couldn't be long before he conquered this strange curse.
With one problem well on the way to be being solved, his mind
turned to the campaign he and his team were working on. He'd lost a lot
of ground with his 'illness' which he'd have to make up the next day. It
shouldn't be too hard, as long as he could stay male for the whole day
that was.
Patrick's sleep was light and a little troubled. Towards dawn,
he was dreaming. He was running along an endless beach. Ahead of him,
Patrick could make out a distant figure running towards him.
The distance between them disappeared rapidly, and Patrick could
see that it was Amanda in a very small bikini that showed off her
assets. She opened her arms as she ran towards him and Patrick did the
same. Seconds before they made contact her body changed. Instantly, she
was much taller, broader and muscular. Her strong arms crushed Patrick
to her manly chest.
Patrick looked up, feeling his long hair cascading down his
back, and saw Hank's face leaning down for a kiss.
Patrick bolted upright with a startled gasp. It took several
seconds to separate dream from reality and to work out where he was. He
looked down at his bare, heaving breasts and cursed. This damn body
wouldn't even leave him alone when he was asleep. He looked over at the
clock. It was only quarter past six, but he knew he wasn't going to get
back to sleep.
He took a shower to fully wake himself and then got ready for
work. He waited until just before he left to turn himself male and that
was only till he reached his car. As he drove to work, he once again
kept only his head and chest male.
His team were a little surprised to see him back at work. Hank
had thought Patrick should have taken a few days off as he had looked
really ill, but he knew his boss couldn't stay away from work that long,
no matter how bad he felt.
"How are you feeling today?" Hank asked.
"Better, thanks." Patrick noticed Ian shambling over to the
coffee machine. "What's up with him?"
"Drunk himself stupid last night by the looks of it."
Patrick cursed, "Damn idiot waits until we at our busiest." He
easily checked another transforming surge and then went over to Ian.
"What the hell do you think you're playing at? We need everyone going at
one hundred percent right now!"
Ian looked at his boss blearily. A strange apprehension ran
through him as he looked at Patrick. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I did
it."
Patrick sighed, "just think in future, okay? A lot is riding on
us."
Ian tried to settle his thoughts as Patrick went back to his
office. Why had he got drunker than ever before in his life? And why was
he suddenly afraid of his boss? He wracked his befuddled mind, but no
answers came.
The morning progressed slowly. Patrick found it difficult to work
at his normal speed. He constantly had to fight down the transforming
surges. By noon, his headache was back with a vengeance and he knew he
could only go another hour or so before his control slipped totally.
Normally, he and Hank would disappear to a local bar for the
lunch break and size up the local talent. For the second day in a row,
he told Hank he was off for some fresh air. Hank had noticed the
strained look on Patrick's face. He wasn't surprised that Patrick had
gone back to work before he was well enough.
Patrick made his way over to Abigail's shop. Abigail looked up
when he entered. "There you are, Patrick. I've been busy and I've
something to show you."
"Good. Is anyone around?"
"No," she replied. "Are you going to change again?" she asked
eagerly.
"Yep." Patrick undid the top buttons on his shirt. He'd end up
ruining more shirts than the Incredible Hulk if he wasn't careful.
Abigail walked over to him and was staring intently at him. She
was obviously fascinated by the whole procedure. Patrick did his best to
ignore her as the change washed over him. He kept only his crotch male.
His thinking being that if he was still a man, even one that looked like
a woman, he wouldn't have to worry about having another man-orientated
fantasy. When the change was completed he looked up and pushed his hair
out of his eyes. He sighed and rubbed his head, accidentally scratching
his skin with his long fingernails as he did so.
Abigail was watching in astonishment with a hand over her mouth.
She still found it impossible to believe that this totally genuine
looking woman was really a man. "You look done in," she remarked to him.
"That's after just one morning of staying male. I can't stay
like this. I'm forever fighting just to keep my own shape. What sort of
life would I have as a woman?"
"No reason why you couldn't have a very good one..." Abigail
started. She noticed the angry look on his face, "...but you're a man and
you want to stay one. I understand."
"You said you had something to show me?"
"Oh yes, follow me."
She headed upstairs to her cramped apartment and Patrick
followed. Most of the floor of the main room was covered with a large
sheet of paper. On it was a complicated series of mystical symbols and
scrawled writing. Dozens of books were scattered around the room.
Patrick looked at the sheet of paper in disbelief. "What on
Earth is this?"
"Your ex-girlfriend's astrological chart. This is my specialist
area, no-one does readings like this."
"Yeah, I'll bet." Patrick said under his breath. "So, what is so
important about it?"
"I couldn't believe what I was seeing when I first drew it up. I
thought I'd made a mistake, but I've rechecked it three times now and
there can be no doubt."
"Yes?" Patrick asked impatiently. He wished she would get to the
point.
"The position of the stars and planets at the precise moment of
her birth are very telling. You are certain that you got the time of her
birth exactly right?"
"Yeah, she told me the story once. She took her first breath
just as the town clock struck midnight."
Abigail nodded. "Another important date is three days ago,
Saturday. Now this is probably when the curse, or whatever it was, was
laid. That day also had a rare astrological combination. Also both her
birthday _and_ Saturday were holy days of an ancient Irish tribe. I'd
guess that an exceedingly rare combination of circumstances
unconsciously unleashed the supernatural powers she possessed in a past
life when she lived in that tribe."
"You're joking, aren't you?" Patrick asked in total disbelief.
He saw the look on her face. "You're serious? You actually believe that
nonsense."
"I didn't expect you to understand, but there are two things I
think I should point out that prove my argument."
"What are those then?"
"This," said Abigail and poked the soft flesh of his right
breast. "And this," she went to poke his other breast, but Patrick
brushed her hand away.
"Okay, you made your point." He tried to pull his shirt together
so his cleavage wouldn't be visible, but the garment just wasn't built
to contain such large breasts. He collapsed into a chair and sighed.
"What do we do now?"
"Now we need to find out more about the tribe. What their
beliefs were and the powers they had. Which won't be easy. The last of
the tribe died over fifteen hundred years ago. I also think I should
have a closer look at your girlfriend. I might be able to divine her
hidden powers."
"How are you going to do that?" Patrick exclaimed hotly. "Walk
up to her and say, 'excuse me, did you use magic powers from a previous
life to turn your ex-boyfriend into a bimbo?'"
"You think on that and try to come up with an idea. Do you have
a photograph of her?" Abigail asked.
"No, I don't."
"Not a problem, you'll just have to lead me to her."
"But she's already seen me like this!" Patrick pointed out.
"You leave that to me," said Abigail mysteriously.
Patrick spent the rest of his lunch hour watching Abigail working
on her charts. His headache receded to a dull ache. It'd be difficult,
but he decided he could last out the rest of the afternoon at work. Even
so, he'd have to spend the evening almost totally female just so he
could survive the next day at work. That was the life he was condemned
to now. He'd have to spend almost all of his time away from work as a
woman. What sort of life was that? He looked at Abigail. All his hopes
rested with this eccentric woman, but could she really do anything?
All too soon, his lunch hour was up and he had to get back to
the office. He turned himself fully male and headed back. For the first
time he was dreading work. Normally he saw his job as a challenge. How
could he enhance his profile and work his way up to the top jobs? For
the moment though, the battle would just be within his own rebellious
body. He had to be very careful, one slip could totally ruin him. He
had almost lost it in the meeting the previous day. Then he had been
very lucky. The next time he lost it would probably mean the end of his
career.
Back in the office, everything seemed disconcertingly normal.
Hank was still trying it on with Susan and was still getting nowhere.
Patrick sat at his desk and started on the pile of paperwork that had
built up. He detested paperwork, but at least he could relax control on
his lower half while he was doing it. The next time the transforming
surge ran through him, Patrick just kept everything above his waist male.
He shifted in his seat to get comfortable as his hips widened.
He thought about buying baggier pants so they'd fit better when he was
female. This isn't going to last that long, he told himself sternly.
Abigail will find a way to reverse it soon. Look how much she's done in
just one day.
He watched Hank and Susan. She had an absolutely stunning body
and in any other circumstance he would have made a pass at her long ago.
However, he had seen many a career blighted by a failed office romance.
As much as he admired her body and personality, he knew he couldn't risk
trying anything with her. If he had tried to get into bed with her he
would have tried a far subtler approach than the one Hank was trying.
Patrick shook his head. What was Hank thinking? Despite how
handsome he was, had he tried that approach on Patrick he would have got
absolutely nowhere. What Hank needed to do to was convince Susan that
there was a brain behind those charming features of his.
Subtlety wasn't Hank's greatest point, but he was capable of far
more tact than that. He probably isn't that interested in her, Patrick
thought. Maybe he's just doing it for amusement. So if he wasn't really
after Susan, that meant Patrick still had a chance.
Patrick finally realized that he had been admiring Hank's body,
and not Susan's, for the last few minutes. His face burnt red with
severe embarrassment and he turned back to his paperwork. He had always
known that his friend's body was attractive to women, but this was the
first time he had ever seen it himself, with his own eyes. For several
minutes there, Patrick had hoped that Hank would turn his charms on him!
He shuddered. His female urges were growing. Patrick concentrated
on his groin and he instantly felt his penis and balls pushing out into
his boxer shorts. It was a little extra he would have to keep male
throughout the afternoon, but it was necessary. I am not attracted to
Hank and I'm not gay, he kept repeating in his mind.
He couldn't stop himself from glancing over to Hank every now
and then. Hank didn't look quite so attractive to Patrick now, but a
strange yearning still remained inside him.
It took him a lot longer than normal to do the paperwork. He had
to keep dividing his attention between the work and stopping his body
betraying him. Also, his mind-numbing headache was building. Since he
only had to keep half of himself male throughout most of the afternoon,
his headache didn't grow to crippling levels. Even so, he was glad to
get out of the office and head home as soon as he could.
His control was just starting to slip as he got home. He pulled
off his clothes and went to the full-length mirror in the bathroom.
Already his chest had lost the small amount of hair it normally had. In
its place were two small adolescent breasts. As he relaxed his control,
his breasts blossomed out to their full and generous size.
The one area he kept male was his crotch. Keeping that one
important area of maleness mattered to him, even if it meant his headache
would take longer to die down.
Patrick ran a bath and he was soon relaxing in it. The hot water
helped to relieve the stresses of the day. Today had been a fairly easy
one, but even so it had stressed him almost to the limit. If things got
busy the next day he'd never be able to keep control.
He soaped and washed his mostly female body. He still couldn't
get over how smooth and sensitive his skin was. The feeling of the water
lapping against the globes of his breasts caused his nipples to become
aroused. With one soapy hand, he stroked the erect points on his chest.
His penis responded, coming to attention almost immediately.
He moaned softly. Each of his nipples were almost as sensitive as
the head of his cock. With his other hand, he grabbed his penis and began
stroking it. Without noticing, he spread his legs as wide as the bath
would allow. His climax was building fast. He pinched and pulled at his
nipples, sending erotic fire through his body. In his imagination the
hand on his chest wasn't his, but Hank's. He also dreamed that his cock
also belonged to Hank.
He was lost in his fantasy, and it quickly became too much for
him and with a shriek he orgasmed. His cock pumped cum all over his
breasts and stomach.
His head was buzzing as he slowly came back to himself. He
looked down at the cum speckling his bosom. Damn, it had happened again!
He was disgusted with himself. Even with his own genitals he was
starting to lose control. Patrick felt afraid of his growing attraction
to Hank. This was only the third full day of this strange curse. How
long could he last before succumbing to his desires?
It's Hard to be a Man Part Four
by
Stephanie
As Patrick dried himself off, even the feel of the soft towel
against his body made his skin tingle with arousal. His cock was
already
showing signs of life. This was getting bad. He couldn't stay in his
male body for any great length of time and his female body kept
getting
turned on by the wrong things. Men, for example.
Patrick put on a bath robe and headed back into the main room.
He sat and tried to relax. His headache was slowly going down, but it
wouldn't totally disappear until after a good night's sleep.
He stretched out on the couch. Within a few minutes he was
nearly asleep. Then his doorbell rang and he sprang upright, falling
off
the couch and knocking over a small table as he did so.
"Patrick? What are you doing in there?" came a voice from
outside the apartment door.
Patrick froze. That was Hank! He wished he could pretend to be
out, but knocking over the table had ruined that idea. He couldn't
give
Hank any reason to think something was wrong. He daren't risk Hank
finding out about his curse. Patrick stood up and concentrated on his
male form. He gave himself the once over to check he hadn't missed
anything and then went over to the door.
Patrick was angry at Hank for turning up now. Normally, he'd
be
happy to see his friend, but not today. His reserves were already low
from maintaining his male shape for most of the day. Now he would have
to expend what little he had left while Hank was around.
"I'm not disturbing anything, am I?" Hank asked after Patrick
opened the door.
"Unfortunately, no."
"Never mind. We'll soon fix that." Hank wandered into the
kitchen
to look for some beers. "We'll go out and find some good ass and we'll
have fun tonight!"
"I'd like to, but I still don't really feel like it tonight."
Hank came back with two cans. "Look, Patrick. You haven't been
out for days. You're not even going for your usual lunchtime drink.
You
are getting old."
"No, I am not!" Patrick replied testily. "It's just I've been
busy and right now I don't feel that well."
"Old," Hank repeated. "You remember that time you had the flu?
You felt like Death and that still didn't stop you going down the bars
and clubs looking for a nice bit of ass."
"I remember, I puked my guts out when the drink reacted with
my
flu medicine," Patrick replied.
"Yeah," Hank said, reminiscing, "what an evening!"
Patrick was weakening. He really did want to go out. He hated
being stuck in his apartment all the time. "Alright, but just a couple
of hours. Give me a few minutes to get dressed."
He went to his bedroom. He changed quickly into a casual
outfit.
He decided he would be able to control his body for a couple of hours,
now that he had rested for a little in his female form. Anyway, he
needed to blow off steam and relax. Otherwise, he'd go mad by the end
of
the week.
Hank was already working his way through the second can of
beer
when Patrick had finished getting ready. Hank was quite happy getting
totally smashed during a night's drinking. Patrick preferred to avoid
total drunkenness. Partially because he was driving, but mostly
because
he thought he didn't have much of a chance getting off with a girl if
he
collapsed in a heap under the table.
It didn't take them long to get to their favorite bar. It was
packed as usual. Hank and Patrick bought two drinks and then started
looking around for likely targets. Patrick's headache wasn't helped by
the booming rock music being pumped around the place, but he felt more
relaxed than he had all week.
"Over there," Hank shouted in his ear. Patrick looked to where
he
was pointing. Sure enough, Hank had spotted two young, well-stacked
women. One of the reasons Patrick liked the bar so much was the type
of
women who would go there. Available, open-minded women looking for a
good time with no attachments.
Hank introduced himself and Patrick as if they were English
lords and then bought them a drink. The girls seemed amenable. They
knew
they could get their drinks free for the rest of the evening at least.
Then if Patrick and Hank didn't seem that interesting they could brush
them off and go somewhere else.
Patrick tried to put his troubles behind and enjoy his
evening.
The dark haired woman he had targeted seemed more than interested in
him. He was gratified to see that despite the bizarre feminine
thoughts
he had been having, he still had the knack for picking up girls.
He was careful to moderate his drinking through the evening.
His
headache was steadily growing again and it wasn't helped by the loud
music, but as long as he didn't get drunk he felt he could control it.
By the end of the evening he'd be sober enough to perform for his
girl,
and in control enough to have something to perform with. Hank was
getting on well with his girl. Unlike Susan, she didn't care what his
mind was like. She was just after his body.
It was only as the evening progressed that Patrick realized he
wasn't going to make it. His already low reserves of control were
draining far faster than he had expected. He found he wasn't able to
hold his liquor as well as he usually could either.
Patrick could already feel his penis starting to shrink and
retract into his body. He quickly excused himself and went to the
washroom. He locked himself in a stall and sat down. He relaxed the
hold
on his body and his feminine self emerged in an instant.
He held his head in his hands and breathed deeply, feeling his
breasts rising and falling, as he tried to control his headache. As
the
minutes passed his headache did retreat a little, but he started to
feel
dizzier from the alcohol. Just like on the night the curse first set
in,
his resistance to drink had fallen. Perhaps his female body wasn't as
used to the amount of alcohol his male one was.
Whatever the case, it was obvious he'd have to get home as
quickly as possible. Any chance of having some fun with his girl was
gone. He composed himself and turned himself male again. He knew that
the length of time he could hold his male shape was measured in only a
few dozen minutes. He had to move quickly.
He made his way carefully back to Hank and the two girls.
"Hank,
I have to go, I'm feeling like shit."
Hank was about to complain, but he could clearly see Patrick
was
really suffering. "Damn it!" He said out of annoyance rather than
anger.
"Can I take them back to your apartment then?"
Patrick groaned, mostly because of Hank's suggestion rather
than
his painful headache. Hank's apartment was much further away and was
always in a total mess. It wasn't usually a problem for Hank to stay
overnight. There was a spare room and Patrick would normally have a
girl
of his own to concentrate on. He didn't have the energy to argue,
though,
so he agreed. He staggered out to his car while Hank talked to the
girls.
After a few minutes Hank and the girls caught up with him.
"I'd
better drive," Hank said. "You look like you're about to drop dead."
"Thanks, I feel like I am." replied Patrick morosely. "But if
there's one dent in my car..."
"...don't bother turning up for work tomorrow." Hank finished,
laughing. "Don't worry, I'll be careful."
Patrick looked behind him at the two girls following them.
"Both
of them?" he asked Hank.
"Waste not, want not." Hank replied with a drunken grin.
They reached the car and Patrick let the two girls climb in
the
back before slumping in the passenger seat. This was just brilliant.
Not
only had he ended up looking like a total idiot in front of the girl
he
was trying to impress, but now he was going to have to spend the night
alone listening to Hank fucking two women.
When they reached Patrick's apartment, Hank wasted no time in
escorting the two girls to the spare room. He turned and winked at
Patrick before closing the door.
Patrick glared at the door and then went into his own bedroom.
He
stripped and then relaxed his control on his body. God, what an
embarrassing evening, he thought as his body rearranged itself into a
softer, more rounded form. He slipped into bed and just sat there,
able
to relax at last now that the strain of maintaining his male body was
gone.
One of the girls gave an excited squeal. Patrick glared in the
general direction of the spare room. He was a fool to have let Hank
bring the two girls back to his apartment while he still had the
transforming curse on him. Anyway, why was Hank over there wasting his
time with those two sluts when he could be over here...
Patrick shivered with fear. He didn't want to finish that line
of thought. He turned over and tried to get some sleep, but he quickly
realized that was going to be impossible for quite some time.
Hank and the two girls were very vocal in their pleasure and
it
was doing more than just keeping Patrick awake. It was starting to
turn
him on. Patrick could hear one of the girls crying 'Yes!' over and
over
again, mixed in with a low grunting noise coming from Hank.
Patrick dropped a hand between his legs and he wasn't
surprised
to find he was already wet. He flung back the bed covers and looked
down
at his nude body. Whatever he felt about his body he had to admit it
was
damn sexy. If only he could share it with someone. Someone like Hank,
with his perfect, muscular body and chiselled features. Patrick's
nipples started to tingle and he lightly brushed the tips with his
fingers.
No! This wasn't right. He was a man, not a horny woman. Why
couldn't he stop these thoughts creeping into his head?
What was wrong with those thoughts, really? Wasn't he now a
woman? A beautiful woman with curves in all the right places? A woman
with soft, creamy breasts and a hot place between her legs aching to
be
filled?
Patrick leapt out of bed and retreated to the far corner of
the
room. He couldn't give in to the desires his body had, no matter how
good they felt. He knew he had to relieve the tension or he was going
to
end up crossing the hall and joining Hank and the girls.
He crept over to the door and cracked it open. Now he could
hear
what was going on far more clearly. Patrick could hear the bed
creaking.
One of the girls was exclaiming something in a very excited voice.
Patrick couldn't quite work out what it was. His heart was beating
rapidly from the fear of being caught and his excitement as he crossed
the hall to stand right outside the door to the spare room.
Patrick listened carefully and he could now understand what
the
girl was saying. "Fuck me...fill me up! Ummm...Aaah! That's it! More!
Harder!" Her fairly inarticulate cries of passion were mixed in with
Hank's bass grunts.
Patrick touched himself between his legs. He bent over as the
waves of his own desire washed over him. His clitoris was almost
painfully sensitive and he knew it wouldn't take much to reach an
orgasm.
He spread his legs to give him easier access and started to ease his
fingers into his vagina. He leaned back against the wall and listened
to
the girl and Hank having sex in the spare room.
He could tell that every time she gave a little yelp of
passion
Hank had just thrust into her to the hilt. Patrick timed himself to
the
girl's cries and thrust his own hand deep inside himself in rhythm
with
her. He imagined he was the girl on the bed and Hank was rearing up
above
him. He could almost feel Hank's tight muscular hips thrusting against
his. Patrick wished that he could have Hank's cock inside him. He
needed
it to make him feel complete. How could something like that be wrong?
Especially when it felt so good.
Hank's thrusting increased in speed and the girl moaned loudly
as her orgasm hit. Patrick's followed immediately after. Despite his
best efforts, a quiet, high pitched cry escaped his lips as he slumped
to the floor.
In the spare room, Hank was building up to his second climax
of
the night. It was hard, if very enjoyable, work, keeping two women
happy
at once.
The second girl had been watching her friend and Hank making
love, slowly rubbing herself as she enjoyed the show. She looked over
at
the door. Was that a noise outside she had heard?
She slipped off the bed and moved over to the door. As quietly
as possible, so as not to disturb Hank and her friend, she opened the
door and peered into the hallway.
There was no-one there. Just an empty hallway and Patrick's
closed door. It was a pity Patrick had gone down ill. He had been
quite
cute.
"What are you doing?" Hank asked her.
"Oh, nothing," she said, shrugging.
"Come over here and we'll give you something to do then."
The girl smiled and shut the door. Then she rejoined Hank and
her friend on the bed.
Patrick was back in his room leaning against the door. His
heart
was pounding furiously. It sounded as loud as a drum. He had turned
himself back into a man and he had only just avoided being seen by the
girl. He reached down to his now male crotch, it was still slick with
his feminine juices.
He climbed back into bed and hugged himself. It took him
several
long minutes to calm down and relax. He'd totally lost it again. Even
now that he was fully male he still felt drawn towards Hank. When he
woke up the next morning he was going to have to get Hank and his
friends out of his apartment as quickly as possible. Until he stopped
transforming he was going to have to keep his distance from Hank or he
was going to do something he'd really regret.
It took Patrick nearly an hour to get to sleep, but finally
his
exhaustion claimed him. Unlike the previous night, he slept long and
deep.
He was finally wakened by a knocking on his bedroom door.
"Patrick? Are you awake?"
Patrick lifted his head and slowly started to come to his
senses.
"Come on," said the voice again, "wake up. We're late for
work."
It was Hank.
Patrick turned his head and looked blearily at the bedside
clock. It was 9.45 am. Oh hell.
He sat up just as the door opened and Hank walked in. "Wake
up!
You didn't get that drunk last..." Hank stopped and stared at
Patrick's
chest.
"What's up?" Patrick asked in a high-pitched voice. Shit! He
had
forgotten he was in his female body! He looked down and realized his
breasts were bare. He quickly grabbed the bedsheets and covered
himself.
"Sorry," Hank said, embarrassed, "thought you were someone
else."
Patrick was too petrified to say anything and he just stared
at
Hank.
"Ummm, I'll go now." Hank said before retreating from the
room.
Hank stood confused outside Patrick's bedroom. Several
questions
came to mind. Why had Patrick gone to work leaving him behind? Why
hadn't Patrick woken him up? The most important question of all,
however, was: Where had that absolute fox in Patrick's room come from?
Patrick was going to have to answer a lot of questions when
Hank
caught up with him. He quickly finished getting ready and then rushed
down to his car. The two girls left with him and he had to give them a
lift home before he could get to work.
In his room Patrick didn't start to relax until he heard Hank
leave. He collapsed back onto the bed with a groan. Now Hank had seen
him as a woman. There was no reason to think Hank would know who the
girl he had seen really was. Even so, he had seen the look in Hank's
eyes when Patrick had accidentally exposed himself. It was a look of
pure lust.
If Patrick had offered his body to Hank at that moment he had
little doubt that his friend would have climbed into bed with him.
Hank
would have pulled back the sheets and held Patrick in his strong
arms...
With a jolt, Patrick realized where his thoughts were going
yet
again. He turned himself fully male and got up. He was already very
late
so he didn't bother rushing. He made himself breakfast despite not
really feeling hungry.
He showered and then dressed. Just three days to the weekend
and
Patrick was getting convinced he couldn't survive. At the rate he was
going, by the weekend he'd be begging Hank to fuck him.
On his way to work, he stopped to pick up some heavy duty
painkillers. With any luck they could take the edge off of his
headache.
It was getting close to 11.00 am when he finally arrived in the
office.
He apologized to everyone for being late.
Fortunately, his team were more than able enough to carry on
without him. Even so, he was busy for the rest of the morning trying
to
catch up on lost time. Patrick had to work through his lunch hour in
his
effort to catch up, which meant he wouldn't get the rest break he
needed
at Abigail's shop.
By early afternoon, his headache was getting oppressive again.
He took a few of the pills he had bought at the drugstore. He wished
he
had thought of this sooner, these would give him the edge to last out
the
day with ease. He would have to be careful not to get hooked on them,
but hopefully Abigail would have solved his problem before that
happened.
Hank had been desperate to talk to Patrick alone all day. It
wasn't until well into the afternoon that he finally got his chance.
"So
who was _that_ then?"
"Who're you talking about?" Patrick replied trying to sound
innocent.
"Who do I mean?" Hank asked incredulously. "That blonde in
your
bed with the big tits!"
"Oh... her." Patrick was trying to get his story straight in
his
head. How should he explain this one away?
"I'm glad you remember her, I'd be really worried about you if
you didn't."
"Don't worry," Patrick said, "she's been on my mind for the
last
few days."
"So, who is she?" Hank patiently asked.
Patrick was quiet for a few seconds before he decided on which
story to tell. "She's my cousin, Becky. She's staying with me for a
few
days until she can get a place of her own."
Hank smiled, "So you're not..."
"No, I'm not." replied Patrick, testily. "Neither are you."
"Now, surely that's for her to decide." Hank said slyly.
"There are plenty other beautiful girls out there waiting for
you. So it won't be a hardship to stay away from just this one, will
it?"
Hank nodded. "No problem. Message received and understood."
Patrick hoped that it had got through Hank's skull. The last
thing he wanted was for Hank to try to get into bed with him.
The painkillers seemed to be working, his headache had gotten
bad, but it wasn't strong enough for him to lose control over his
body.
He worked hard to get through the backlog of work that was building
up,
but he knew he wasn't going to manage it all in one day.
Towards the end of the working day Patrick started to feel
tired. His headache wasn't too bad, but because he was so drowsy he
couldn't concentrate well enough.
He pinched himself to stay alert. Why was he starting to fall
asleep? He wondered if it was due to the combined stress of the past
few
days. He pulled the painkillers out of his jacket pocket and read the
packet.
'Warning,' it read, 'this product can cause drowsiness and
should
not be taken if the user is operating heavy machinery.'
Great, just great! If it wasn't one thing it was another. No
matter, it was almost time to leave. Patrick relaxed his control over
his body from the waist down and just concentrated on those parts
visible to the rest of his team.
He decided to wait until his team had left before leaving
himself. When female his hips seemed to him to stick out like shelves.
They were certainly far wider than normal and they gave a feminine
swivel
to his walk. Patrick refused to take the risk of walking out while
half-female when the others could see him.
While he waited, Patrick returned to the backlog of work.
Everyone else except Ian soon left to go home. Patrick started getting
seriously worried. The side-effects of the painkillers were really
starting to kick in now and he was finding it difficult to keep his
eyes
open. Several times he felt his breasts starting to expand, though he
managed to keep them down.
He couldn't get up for a walk, while Ian was there. Eventually
he told Ian to go home and forget about his work until the next day.
Ian wanted to get the work done so it wouldn't be waiting for
him the next day, but something about his boss still made him uneasy.
Finally he left and Patrick was alone.
Patrick got up and walked around to keep himself awake. His
control quickly slipped and the rest of his body turned female. He
cursed as he felt two buttons pop off his shirt. Another one ruined.
He was too tired to drive all the way home and he wanted to
check in with Abigail anyway. He pulled the jacket of his suit on and
did it up. It had been tailored for his male self, and it didn't fit
him
as well when he was female. The arms were slightly too long and it was
a
little too broad across the shoulders.
Patrick slipped the back way out of the building; Down a
flight
of stairs and out of a fire exit. He hoped he wasn't setting off any
security alarms. He walked as fast as he could to his car, but that
wasn't very quick. Every movement set his breasts jostling and he was
afraid they would get free of his shirt. Also, his shoes were now the
wrong size and he had to half shuffle his way to the car so that they
didn't fall off.
He could see no-one in the car park and he soon reached his
car.
Then it was only the matter of a few minutes drive until he reached
Abigail's shop.
Ian had stopped to use the men's room before leaving the
building
and he emerged just in time to see his boss's car pull out onto the
street. He frowned as he saw that it wasn't his boss driving. Instead,
there was a strangely familiar woman behind the wheel. Where was
Patrick? And where had he seen that woman before?
He shrugged and headed over to his motorbike. That was a
problem
for another day. For now he might as well make full use of the early
end
of work Patrick had unexpectedly given him.
It's Hard to be a Man Part Five
by
Stephanie
Patrick yawned as he knocked on the door of Abigail's shop.
The
painkillers he had taken earlier had controlled his headache well
enough, but they had also made him so drowsy he could barely stay
awake,
let alone keep his male form.
Abigail quickly appeared and let him in. "Why are you walking
around as a woman?" she asked.
"I've had a terrible day," Patrick replied wearily. "Have you
made any progress?"
"Well, I'm as ready as I'll ever be. All we need is a pretext
to
get close enough to your ex-girlfriend so I can scan her."
"Yeah, but what can we use?"
"Simple. We use this." Abigail pulled a tatty pile of paper
from
a plastic bag.
"What's that? An ancient book from the time of these Irish
witches Amanda is supposed to be a reincarnation of?"
"No!" Abigail said crossly, "It's my novel."
"Your...novel." Patrick looked at Abigail closely. She seemed
to
be totally serious. How was this going to help them?
"Here," she said offering it to Patrick, "have a look."
Patrick carefully took the bundle and opened it to a page at
random.
'Lord Buckinghamshire's manly physique set Florence's
bosom heaving. She considered herself thrice damned for being
forcibly betrothed to the loathsome Count Boothby when this
stunningly handsome man was as yet unattached.'
Patrick frowned and looked at Abigail. "Amanda isn't the sort
of
girl who'd be interested in slushy romance books."
Abigail sighed, "Don't be so dense. Amanda works as an editor
at
Rothermann Press, doesn't she?"
Patrick nodded. He had known she worked at a publishing house,
but he had neither known nor really cared what her actual job was.
"So," Abigail continued, "I've booked an appointment for us to
see her tomorrow and attempt to sell my book to her company. I had to
pull a few strings to get the appointment. Usually, unsold authoresses
like me just have to submit their books and hope someone gets round to
reading it."
Patrick looked dubiously at the manuscript. "Do you really
think
they'll buy this?"
"Well, I wouldn't mind, but I think it's highly unlikely. They
don't print this sort of book, unfortunately. I might get luckily, but
the important thing is meeting Amanda and for that I'll need your
help."
Patrick remembered the last time he had seen Amanda and
shuddered. "You don't need me to find her, just go to her office and
they'll tell you where she is."
"That's not the problem," she replied. "It's going to take me
several minutes to do a thorough psychic scan and during that time I
can't concentrate on anything else. Like talking, for instance."
"So you want me to pretend to sell the book while you just sit
there? You've forgotten that she's seen me. I frightened her half to
death when I transformed in front of her. If she sees me again she'll
have a screaming fit!"
"Relax, I have an idea that'll work." Abigail replied.
"What's that then?"
"You'll see. We'll see her tomorrow afternoon, so you'll have
to
take some time off from your job. You're going as my agent, so you'll
need to read my book."
"That thing?" moaned Patrick. "Do I have to?"
"Yes. You do."
"Can't you get someone else to go with you?" Patrick asked. He
hated the idea of actually walking around in public as a woman.
"I could, but then I'd have to tell them about you. I'm not
about to start lying to my friends, even for you."
Impersonating an agent would only take an hour or so and it
was
better than someone else finding out about his curse. "Alright, I'll
do
it."
Patrick followed Abigail upstairs and settled down on her
couch
to read her book. He quickly found himself growing very sleepy, mostly
due to Abigail's novel rather than the painkillers. It was so boring!
He
thought that he might appreciate it more since he was in female form
and
women preferred romance fiction. He tried to flick through it to get
an
idea of the plot, but the book was stuffed with various lords and
ladies
with rather stupid long winded names.
His eyelids got heavier and heavier. Patrick soon lost the
battle
and was fast asleep.
He was snoring softly as Abigail returned. "Oh, thank you very
much," she commented, slightly annoyed. She considered waking him up,
but he had looked so exhausted. She left Patrick sleeping on the couch
only to return moments later with a blanket. She carefully took her
book
from where it had fallen in his lap and spread the blanket over him.
"There's no sense in disturbing you," Abigail said out loud,
"Tomorrow is going to be a busy day."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Patrick yawned and stretched. As he slowly woke up he realized
he
wasn't in his own bed. He sat up from the couch and looked blearily
around him. This was Abigail's apartment. He hadn't recognized it in
daylight.
He stood up and stretched. It felt good not to have pain
ripping
through his head. It was almost worth staying in his female body to
avoid that. He felt a little stiff from sleeping on the couch, but
otherwise he felt okay.
He checked his watch. It was only fifteen minutes till he was
due at work. That wouldn't be a problem as his office was only just
around the corner. He didn't have a change of clothes, but that was a
minor problem.
A small kitchen led off the side of the room and Patrick went
looking for something to eat. Abigail didn't have any bacon, or any
kind
of meat. Typical, Patrick thought, she has to be a vegetarian. He
finally found some breakfast cereals.
He was just finishing off a bowl of Cheerios when Abigail got
up. She appeared in the kitchen wearing a dressing gown. "Morning,"
she
said, "I hope you don't mind me not waking you up last night."
"No problem. I needed the rest," Patrick replied. "The last
few
days have been really stressful."
"I can imagine. To be honest, I'm surprised to see you're
still
female."
Patrick shrugged and brushed back a strand of his long hair.
"Every second I stay female means one more second I can stay male
later
on. Talking of which, I better get off to work."
"Not so fast!" Abigail said. "I need you today, remember?"
"I have to get to work. I'm behind as it is."
"I'm doing this for your benefit," Abigail reminded him.
"Anyway, you won't be able to fully concentrate on your job until you
stop transforming."
Patrick nodded, "Alright." She was right, though it would
cause
him problems from his bosses as he really was needed at this critical
time. He pulled his mobile phone from his jacket pocket and dialed his
office. As he waited for someone to answer he concentrated on his
throat
until his familiar Adam's Apple had returned. He told the receptionist
that he was going to be off ill again that day.
As he hung up he saw Abigail watching him with an amused
expression. "What?" he asked.
"Sorry, it just sounds odd hearing a male voice coming from an
obviously female body."
"Yeah, very funny," he replied, unamused.
"Never mind, once today is over, I'm certain I'll know how to
cure you."
"Okay, but I still don't like the idea of confronting Amanda
as
a woman."
"Listen, you'll be okay. I've got your clothes in here."
"Clothes?" asked Patrick.
"Yeah, you can't wear your suit, can you? I borrowed some
stuff
from a friend of mind. She's about your size, but not quite as well
endowed as you."
Abigail led him into her bedroom. She produced a bag and
unwrapped it. It was a woman's suit, dark navy in color with gold
colored buttons.
Patrick picked it up to look at it closer. "This has a skirt!"
Abigail winced, she had known this would be a problem. "It's
all
she had. Unfortunately she doesn't have any pants that would go with
that. It's just for an hour so, Patrick. Anyway, there's no way anyone
will know who you really are."
"Even so," Patrick protested, "it's still a skirt."
Abigail rolled her eyes, "So what? Pretend you're going to a
Halloween party or something. Trust me."
Patrick relented. It would be over soon and then Abigail would
have enough information to get rid of the curse. For now he'd have to
endure this indignity.
"Alright, but only for as long as absolutely necessary."
"Great," she pulled out another bag. "Here's the underwear."
She
threw the bag to him.
"Underwear?" He opened the bag and pulled out a small mass of
slippery silk lingerie. "No way! I'm not wearing these!"
"What have you got on now? Boxers? Do you have any idea of how
that'll look under your skirt? Everyone will be staring at your ass."
Though they'll probably be doing that anyway, she thought. "And you
need
the bra to keep your chest under control."
Patrick looked back down at the underwear. It would only be
for
an hour or two. No-one would be able to tell he wasn't really a woman.
Anyway, some of this stuff looked quite nice.
Nice on a sexy girl, perhaps, but this was the first time he
had
ever considered what he'd look like in them.
"Okay, let's get this over with." Patrick said reluctantly to
Abigail.
"Good. Do you want a hand?"
"No," Patrick replied quickly. "I'll be fine."
"You're sure?" Abigail almost said 'we're all girls here,' but
managed to stop herself just in time.
"I'm sure. I'll call if I need you."
Abigail nodded and left the room.
Patrick emptied the lingerie on the bed. Where did he start?
He
stripped off his male clothes that he had been wearing from the day
before. Right, what first? He picked out the panties from the pile and
chose a plain pink silk pair. He got them on the wrong way round on
his
first attempt and cursed as he pulled them off.
He put them on the right way round and pulled them up around
his
hips. They fit snugly, very snugly in fact. He ran a finger over the
small, silk-covered mound and shivered at the erotic thrill that ran
through him. He pulled his hand away as he recognized the dangerous
path
he was heading down. Now was not the time to lose it and start
masturbating again. He briefly considered giving himself back his male
genitals, but he decided they'd be too cramped inside the panties. He
could always bring them back if he started losing control later.
Next came the bra. To his shame he knew he needed one. Abigail
hadn't been entirely sure what size he was, so she had got a range. He
picked one at random and tried to work out how to get it on. Over the
years he had got quite skilled in removing a bra in record time, but
he
had never had to put one back on.
He put his arms through the shoulder straps and then tried to
reach behind himself to do it up. His arms quickly started to ache as
he
struggled to do the clasp up. Finally, he managed to do it, but was
faced with another problem. Neither of his breasts were in the cups of
the bra. He tried to pull the bra down over his breasts, but that
clearly wasn't going to work.
He decided it was time to admit defeat. "Abigail, could you
help
me?"
"Okay!" she replied and opened the door. She looked at Patrick
and had to use all her control simply to stop smiling. He looked so
cute
dressed only in a pair of panties and with his arms crossed in front
of
his breasts. His delicate face was flushed and it wasn't difficult to
work out what the problem was. "Having problems with the bra?"
"Yeah, I need a second elbow in each arm to do it up."
"No problem, turn around and I'll do it for you." Patrick
turned
away from her, but didn't take his arms from his breasts. Abigail
sighed, "If you don't unfold your arms I can't get this bra into
position."
Reluctantly, Patrick did as he was told. Abigail straightened
the shoulder straps and got Patrick to hold the cups over his breasts
as
she did the bra up. "Okay, turn around and we'll see how that fits."
Patrick turned around and she checked the bra's fit.
It wasn't a perfect fit as it was slightly too small, but it
was
good enough. When she looked up she was surprised to see his face was
even redder than before. "It seems to fit okay," she said. "How do
they
feel?"
Patrick's breasts felt like they were contained and cushioned
inside the smooth fabric. It was almost like they were being held in
two
soft hands. "It feels really weird, but I'm comfortable."
"Good, try the pantyhose next."
She handed him the thin mesh of the tights. Patrick sat down
on
the bed and started to pull it up his legs.
"No, not like that." Abigail said. "They're not a pair of
socks.
Bunch them up and then ease it up the leg."
Patrick thought back to when he had watched his various
girlfriends dressing in the mornings. He tried to copy their motions
and
the thin fabric glided up his smooth leg. He carefully put on the
pantyhose and then stood. They felt very odd on his legs. A small
breeze
ran over him and his legs felt even more sensitive than before. It was
if
the pantyhose heightened the feeling.
Abigail nodded, "Easy one now; the blouse."
Patrick walked over to her, but stopped when he heard the
familiar swishing sound of nylon clad leg against another. He was
making
that noise! This was just too weird.
He took the blouse from Abigail and pulled it on. It was good
to
have a garment that was actually designed to accommodate his large
bosom.
He had some trouble with the buttons as they were back to front
compared
to his shirts. He smoothed it down over his body. It seemed to fit
fairly well.
Abigail was nodding, "Not bad. Okay, time for the skirt."
Patrick swallowed nervously. A skirt was a very feminine
garment, and he felt more uncomfortable about it than any of the other
clothes. Abigail held it out for him to step into. He succumbed to the
inevitable and put one nylon clad leg into the skirt followed by the
other one. Abigail eased it up his legs and did the clasp up. Patrick
felt her zip up the skirt and then stand back. He felt a bit dizzy and
detached from the situation. Part of him still couldn't believe he was
doing this.
"Just the jacket and the shoes and you're halfway there," she
said.
He took the jacket and slipped it on. It was cut quite
differently from his male jackets and there was no way anyone could
confuse it with one.
Abigail looked at him critically, "Not bad at all. Here, come
have a look." She led him over to the mirror and Patrick looked at his
image.
His first thought was that Abigail was right. He didn't look
bad
at all. In fact all he needed was to do his hair and get some make-up
and he could be some corporate businesswoman. He wondered
absentmindedly
what Hank would make of this outfit. Hank preferred his women in tight
and revealing clothes, but Patrick knew his body would look good even
in
a potato sack.
Damn it! He was daydreaming about Hank again! He turned
quickly
away from the mirror and shivered. He tried to ignore the arousal of
his
body and hoped Abigail couldn't see that his nipples were erect.
"Are you okay?" Abigail asked.
"Yeah...no problem. This is just a bit too weird, you know?"
"I understand. I've got some shoes that will probably fit you.
They only have two-inch heels, and they don't quite go with the suit,
but it's all I have."
"Good! If they were any taller I'd probably snap both my
ankles." He turned and looked at his image in the mirror again. "This
isn't going to work. Amanda will recognize me in an instant."
"Well, you wait till they're finished with you," Abigail said
with a smile.
"They?" Patrick asked dubiously.
"You're booked into a salon this morning, by the time you
leave
even your own mother wouldn't recognize you."
"She wouldn't know me now!" He felt angry. She could have
least
have discussed this with him.
"Sorry, but Amanda saw a long-haired, blonde woman. You'd be
surprised how different you'll look after a haircut."
"We'll see, but if I'm not convinced I look different enough,
we
call this off, okay?"
"Alright," Abigail agreed. She picked up a pair of shoes from
the floor. "Try these on, and, if they fit, get used to walking in
them.
While you're doing that I'll get dressed."
Patrick took the shoes into the main room. They had thick
heels
and they didn't really match the suit. They seemed far too small for
him, but he was surprised to find they were only slightly tight on his
feet.
He sat on a chair and leaned over to do his shoes up. He was
conscious of his breasts pushing into his legs as he did so. At least
the bra was keeping them under control. However, the strange jiggling
feeling on his chest had been replaced by a soft, containing feeling.
It
felt quite nice, actually.
Patrick finished doing the shoes up and climbed to his feet.
He
felt a little uneasy in his new shoes. He wasn't used to having even
the
two-inch heel that was on the shoes. His toes were cramped, and the
way
his feet were tilted in the shoes just increased his discomfort.
He took slow, small steps at first. His feet wobbled a bit,
but
he managed to keep control. After a few minutes he felt confident
enough
to experiment a bit. He found that his stride was shorter because of
the
skirt. It felt very strange to feel it brushing against his pantyhose.
Patrick tried to remember how women walked in high heel shoes. Usually
he would concentrate on their rolling hips rather than their feet, but
he was sure they placed each step in exactly in front of the other.
Like
walking on a straight line.
He tried that method and he could feel the change in his walk
immediately. Having to move the leg around and in front of the other
one
introduced a pronounced wiggle to his walk. He could feel his hips
gyrating. Patrick wished he had a mirror to see if he had got it
right.
"Very good for a beginner," said Abigail behind him. "A little
exaggerated, but still a good effort."
Patrick jumped when he realized he was being watched. He
turned
around, embarrassed. "I was just seeing if I...could walk that way."
"You needn't worry. You're a natural." She checked her watch.
"Are you ready? If we don't go now we'll be late for the salon."
"Okay," he replied. Patrick tried to keep the reluctance out
of
his voice, but he didn't entirely succeed. He really didn't want to do
this. For the first time he'd be going out as a woman. If Abigail was
successful that day, though, this would also be the last time.
He followed her down the narrow stairs and out into the alley.
It was still fairly early in the morning and there was no-one else
there. Even so, Patrick felt horribly exposed. The morning breeze
rubbed
against his legs and went up his skirt.
Abigail looked at him and obviously noticed his discomfort.
"Are
you okay. You don't look that happy."
"Of course I'm not happy! I'm standing outside where people
can
see me in a skirt!"
Abigail could have pointed out that no-one would see anything
odd about him in a skirt with that body, but decided that that wasn't
what Patrick wanted to hear right now. She led him down the alley to
her
own car. It was nowhere near as expensive as his car that was still
parked outside her shop.
It took a few tries to start the car and it didn't sound too
healthy when Abigail finally managed it. Patrick put on the seat belt
and tried to get comfortable. He hated the way the belt pressed
between
his breasts.
The journey to the salon took them about fifteen minutes.
During
that time Patrick tried to avoid making eye contact with anyone.
Several
times he saw men checking him out while waiting at traffic lights. The
thought that men were eyeing him up made him feel slightly excited and
made his skin crawl at the same time.
Abigail was lucky to get a parking space only a block away
from
the salon, but even that seemed too far for Patrick. He stood on the
sidewalk, feeling very self-conscious as Abigail locked her car up.
Then
they set off for the salon. He was shaking with fear as they passed
other people. While he felt many eyes looking at him, no-one seemed to
find him out of place or ridiculous looking. At that moment he was
physically a woman. So there was no rational basis for his fear of his
true identity coming out, but he couldn't calm himself.
After what seemed like endless hours they reached the salon.
Patrick was glad to get off the street and inside. He looked around as
Abigail booked them in. He cringed at the feminine styles of the
salon.
This certainly wasn't a unisex hairdressers. This was one place his
masculine ego really didn't want to be.
He was led over to one of the chairs as the hairdresser and
Abigail started discussing styles. As far as Patrick was concerned,
they
might as well have been talking in a foreign language. The hairdresser
was a little disconcerted that it was Abigail who was doing all the
talking and not Patrick. He kept checking with Patrick, who simply
agreed with everything Abigail said.
Abigail had settled on a radically different hairstyle that
was
only shoulder length. Patrick understood the need to have something
very
different, but even so he found himself sad that his long hair was
being
so drastically cut.
When the hairdresser was satisfied he turned the chair around
and tilted it back so he could wash and color it. Patrick closed his
eyes and relaxed as the hairdresser worked. Soon, he found himself
under
a hairdryer.
Abigail was already discussing with another woman what make-up
would work best with Patrick's face. They quickly agreed on a look and
the girl started applying make-up to Patrick's face.
The girl worked quickly and professionally. Patrick found it
difficult to believe he was doing this. Sure, he had a good reason,
but
even so, he was a man. He was sitting in a beauty salon getting
pampered
like a woman and now he was getting his face made up. Just think of
your
goal, he kept telling himself. He had to help Abigail or she couldn't
help him.
"Well, ma'am." the girl said. It took Patrick several seconds
to
realize she was talking to him. "What do you think?"
Patrick sat up and looked at himself in the mirror. His mouth
dropped open in utter surprise. He had barely gotten used to his new
self, but now he saw a completely new stranger in the mirror.
She had short reddish hair in curls and the natural beauty of
her face was heightened by the delicate use of make-up. He belatedly
noticed the look of shock on his face and snapped his mouth shut. God,
he was beautiful! A flawless goddess. He felt a delicious heat running
through his groin. If only Hank were here to see him...
It's Hard to be a Man Part Six
by
Stephanie
Patrick fidgited and glanced nervously around Amanda's office.
He tried to cross his legs, but his skirt got in the way.
"Will you please sit still," Abigail asked him. "You're making
me nervous."
"I'm making _you_ nervous?" Patrick replied. He still couldn't
believe he was doing this. There he was, in his ex-girlfriend's office,
wearing a skirt and waiting for her to arrive. "She's going to recognize
me. Changing my hairstyle and color and adding some make-up isn't going
to be enough!"
Abigail sighed. "If you don't relax I'm not going to be able to
concentrate. Trust me, she won't recognize you."
Patrick forced himself to relax. He couldn't panic now. If he
couldn't buy Abigail the time she needed to scan Amanda'a mind, then
he'd probably keep transforming into a woman for the rest of his life.
He smoothed his skirt down and made sure he kept his knees together.
How he hated the female clothes he was wearing. They were neccesarry
for the deception, but he had never been so nervous in his life. They
made him feel vulnerable. His normal arrogant nature was gone. He was
in uncharted waters here and he didn't like the sensation.
It seemed like an eternity before Amanda arrived, but it
couldn't have been more than a few minutes. Patrick's heart skipped a
beat as she walked into the room and smiled.
"Good Afternoon," she said. "I'm Amanda Weston and I believe
you have a novel we might be interested in."
Abigail nudged Patrick in the ribs and he belatedly recalled
what he was supposed to do. He lurched to his feet and stuck out his
hand. "I-I'm Rebecca Williams and this is my client Abigail
Ferreira. Abigail has laryngitus at the present time and is under
doctor's orders not to speak. So you'll have to forgive her."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Amanda said in sympathy. "I do
hope you feel better soon."
Abigail nodded and smiled in thanks.
Amanda indicated the two chairs in front of her desk. "Please,
sit down."
Patrick sat down and watched Amanda walk around the desk to her
chair. So far everything seemed to be going fine. If Amanda had
recognized him she was doing a very good job of hiding it. He caught
himself eyeing the swell of her bosom under her blouse. She was still
an attractive young woman. If Patrick hadn't gotten bored of her none
of this would happened. No, it wasn't his fault, she should have been
more interesting. How could she blame him for losing interest?
He looked to his left at Abigail sat next to him. Her forehead
was creased in concentration. She had started psychicly scanning Amanda.
Patrick hoped that Abigail was actually capable of doing that and wasn't
just unhinged. He had no choice but to trust her, though.
"So," Amanda asked, making Patrick jump, "what made you bring Ms
Ferreira's novel to Rothermann Press?"
"Well, Abigail feels that your company has one of the most
prestigous publishing lines in the country. She felt that your company
was perhaps too good for her book and it took a lot of persuading by me
to convince her to try you." Patrick relaxed as his sales talk swung
into action. This was something he understood.
As they talked, Patrick noticed that Amanda's smile was
starting to slip. Slowly, but surely, it was being replaced with a
frown. Patrick stopped himself from running from the building as fast
as possible. She was working out who he really was!
Perhaps she recognized his speech patterns, or maybe the
disguise wasn't good enough, but it was clear she was putting two and
two together and was about to get four. He looked over at Abigail. She
was still concentrating hard, so she couldn't be finished yet. "So what
level of sales do you envision Abigail's novel reaching?" he asked in
an attempt to keep Amanda's mind on the job.
It wasn't working. Her eyes widened in horror as she finally
realized who Patrick was. "You!" she exclaimed in a strangled whisper.
He knew it was time to come clean. "Look, we've worked out
what's going on. We--"
"Get out," Amanda said in a quiet, but terrified voice. Her
hands were balled up and her knuckles were white with tension.
"Amanda, please listen--" Patrick started.
"Get out!" Amanda screamed as loud as she could.
Abigail's eyes snapped open and she stood up. She nodded to
Patrick.
Patrick considered trying to talk to Amanda again, but one look
at the terror on her face told him that wouldn't be a good idea. He
quickly retreated to the door. Abigail stopped only to retrieve her
book and then followed.
Everyone watched them leave, wondering what had caused Amanda's
outburst. Patrick couldn't shake the idea that they all knew who he
really was, and that they were secretly laughing at the man in the skirt.
Abigail didn't say anything until they were in the elevator.
"You didn't do a bad job in there. I might make it into print yet."
"Oh Jesus, that was awful," Patrick said as he leaned against
the wall. "Did you see her face? She was petrified!"
"It's to be expected. She doesn't know what's going on. She's
probably starting to question her own sanity right about now."
Patrick remembered why they had gone to Amanda's office in the
first place. "How did you do?"
"I was too busy admiring your spiel to concentrate on your ex."
Patrick almost exploded. "What?!"
"Joke!" Abigail said quickly. "I was joking. You can relax now,
you've done your bit."
"And?"
"I think I know what needs to be done. I'll have to work it out
and check everything. I don't want to make a mistake."
The elevator arrived at the building's foyer and they walked
out towards the car park. A man walked passed them, blatently checking
out Patrick's body as he did so. Patrick shivered. "The sooner I'm back
to normal the better." He caught himself watching the man's ass as he
walked away. He concentrated on his crotch and turned himself male
there. It would make his panties feel cramped, but he needed to assert
his maleness.
As Abigail drove them back to the shop, Patrick relaxed. He put
his head against the head rest and closed his eyes. He had survived the
morning. He felt tired now the fear had gone.
As soon as he got to Abigail's shop he could get back into his
own clothes and male shape. He would be able to put all the awkward
feminine feelings he had been having behind him.
"We're here," Abigail told him.
Patrick opened his eyes and climbed out of the car. He walked
quickly over to the door of the shop and waited for Abigail to unlock
the door.
"Becky?"
Patrick froze. No, that couldn't be who he thought it was. How
could Hank know he was there? He couldn't stop himself from turning
around and looking. Sure enough, there was Hank, leaning against
Patrick's car. Patrick froze as a strange mixture of fear and excitement
ran through him.
"It _is_ you," Hank said. "I didn't recognize you with your hair
that way. He started to walk towards Patrick. "I want to apologize for
this morning. I had no idea you'd be in there. I thought it would be
Patrick. Talking of which, have you seen him today? Ian said he had seen
Patrick's car here and I thought I'd find him here."
Patrick cleared his suddenly dry throat. "N-No. Ummm... I
borrowed it for the day."
"Oh," Hank replied. He clearly wasn't interested in Patrick's
location now he had found 'Becky'. Patrick knew exactly what image was
going repeatedly through Hank's mind. It was an image of Patrick sitting
up in bed with his breasts exposed. Patrick couldn't really blame Hank.
It was exactly the way he would have responded if he had been a man.
Patrick looked at Hank's handsome face. It was only in the last few
days that he had really started to appreciate how good-looking his
friend actually was.
"Come on, Rebecca," came Abigail's voice as if from a distance.
"We have work to do."
"I have to go!" Patrick squeaked. He half-ran into the shop and
up the stairs. Once there, he couldn't stop himself from going to the
window and peering through the curtains at Hank in the street below.
Hank was looking a little bemused at Patrick's sudden retreat, but then
he turned and sauntered back to the office.
"Do you know him?"
Patrick turned to see Abigail standing at the door. "Yeah, his
name's Hank. He saw me yesterday morning as a woman. He's a friend of
mine, but I can't handle it when he starts acting like that to me."
Abigail walked over and put an arm round Patrick. "I quite
understand. Never mind though, it's over and we've done it. You go and
get changed and I'll get you something to drink."
Patrick smiled gratefully and went into Abigail's bedroom. He
started to sort through his clothes. He looked up and noticed the
mirror. Patrick couldn't resist walking over and looking at himself
closely.
Now that the meeting with Amanda was over he could relax and
enjoy the beautiful image he made. His clothes still felt strange and
wrong, but it was a pleasent sensation now. It felt so strange to _be_
a beautiful woman. The outfit he had was conservative, surely he could
get something more outgoing. Something that could really show off his
fantastic body.
He realized Abigail would be wondering what had happened to him.
He quickly stripped out of his borrowed female clothes and then
concentrated on his male body. He had been in a female body continuosly
for almost a full day. Maybe that was why his normal, male form felt a
little strange to him.
He quickly dressed in his male clothes. Before he went back out
to Abigail he noted down the sizes of the female clothes he had been
wearing. They were only for reference, he rationalized, in the unlikely
case that he needed to know his feminine clothes sizes.
Abigail smiled as he reappeared. "I bet it feels good to be back
in your own body."
"Yeah," he replied, "I don't want to go through that again."
"You need to wash your face, dear." Abigail said.
"Why?" he asked just as he remembered. He had been wearing
make-up!
Abigail stifled a laugh as he bolted for the bathroom. He was
doing his best, but Patrick obviously had a real problem dealing with
anything feminine about himself.
In the bathroom, Patrick looked at himself in the mirror and
winced. The make-up made him look ridiculous. It was somehow worse that
it was on his male face instead of his female one. After all, it
belonged on a woman.
He washed his face and hair. He hadn't realized that dying his
hair as a woman would mean he would be a redhead as a man. The dye
slipped off his hair easily, though, and washed away. His hair had
changed with the rest of him and perhaps the dye had somehow lost it
grip.
Once he was certain no trace of make-up and hair dye was left he
went back into the main room. Abigail had made some coffee. Patrick
wished for something stronger, but he wasn't about to complain.
"I prefered you with red hair," Abigail said.
"I didn't, I'm just glad it came off when I changed. I wouldn't
want to try to explain that one to my friends."
"Especially Hank. I saw the way you were looking at him as he
walked over." She paused as she phrased the next question. "Do you want
to talk about it."
Patrick felt hot with embarresmment. "Not really, I can handle
it."
"Are you sure? It's probably because you're just not used to a
woman's body. It's nothing to be ashamed of."
"Just drop it, okay?" Patrick demanded angrily.
"Okay," Abigail replied, "no problem." There was an
uncomfortable pause. "I'll start sorting out what I got during my scan.
I should have some good news for you tomorrow."
Patrick nodded. He checked his watch. It was 3.00pm, far too
late to go into work. He didn't feel like it anyway. "I'll head home.
Let me know the moment you're ready."
"Yes, sir!" she replied with a mocking salute.
He managed a little smile at that. "Sorry, Abigail, but today
has really put me on edge."
"We're almost there," she reassured him. "You'll be okay."
Patrick thanked her and headed home. He could already feel the
tension starting to build in his head as he started his car. He hadn't
even been male for more than half an hour. He relaxed control over all
of his body except his head and chest, so he could concentrate on his
driving.
It was only as he was driving that he realized how hungry he
was. He hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. Patrick found a place to
park near a McDonalds. He concentrated on his body and turned himself
fully male again before heading up to the fast-food restaurant. His
hunger was forgotten, however, as he glanced at one of the shops he was
passing.
It was a shop given over to women's clothing. He glanced at
several of the dresses on display in the window. They were reasonably
upmarket, if not up to the usual quality of the clothes he normally
wore.
Patrick frowned. He would never wear clothes like these anyway.
They were for women, not men like him. The dark blue suit he had worn
earlier had felt good, even though he had disliked it at the time. Why
shouldn't he experience women's clothes one more time? Abigail was
almost on top of the cure, and then this opportunity would be gone
forever. What harm could it do? Anyway, this stuff looked so
seductively inviting. Towards the back of the store he could see a
lingerie section.
That settled it. Patrick opened the door and nervously entered
the shop. An assistant came over to see if she could help. Patrick span
a tale of getting some presents for his wife. He knew that she would
probably work out who the clothes were for fairly quickly by the way
he was acting, but he prefered the pretense to admitting that he was
buying them for himself.
He marvelled at the array of styles and fabrics women wore. They
made his own male wardrobe look so drab and boring. He had only intended
to buy a dress, bra and panties, but he quickly got carried away. By the
time he had reached the lingerie section he had already picked several
dresses and a selection of skirts and blouses.
A quick stop to buy several pairs of shoes and boots and then
it was on to the underwear section.
If he had been overawed by the dresses, he was totally
overwhellmed by the lingerie. He had never realized how many different
types and styles there actually were. He picked several very sexy
matching bra and pantie sets and then selected a few basques and teddies
almost at random.
Patrick could feel himself starting to lose control because of
his excitement. It was almost like his female side was forcing it's way
out so it could wear those lovely clothes. He knew he had to get out of
the shop as fast as possible. The shop assistant took the clothes over
to the till and started to wrap them for him. It was only then that he
realized how much he had bought.
It didn't matter, he could afford the cost of all of them. A
more pressing problem was getting out of the shop before he totally lost
it. His scalp itched as his hair started to lengthen and change. Patrick
had already lost the battle in his pants and was now female there. The
arousal in his crotch was driving the change in the rest of his body.
He watched his hand get slimmer and more refined as he tried to sign
the cheque.
The assistant looked disconcerted as he handed the cheque over.
She could obviously see that her customer was far more feminine now
than when he had come in. Patrick could feel his breasts starting to
increase in size. His shirt was missing a few buttons from the last
time he had turned female and his cleavage would soon be plainly visable.
He quickly grabbed his purchases and clutched them to his
burgening bosom. He concentrated all his efforts on keeping his head
male as he finished paying for the clothes. Then he left the shop as
quickly as he could and ran back to the car, almost losing his shoes
from his smaller feet as he did so.
The stunned assistant watched him go. There was something very
odd about that man, she thought. Mind you, he had a body that would able
to carry off those clothes very well.
Patrick clambered back into his car and threw the mountain of
clothes into the back. He gripped the steering wheel and tried to get
a grip on himself. Abigail may be nearing a cure, he told himself, but
that was no excuse to start getting careless. Never mind, no harm was
done.
He brushed his hair out of his eyes and was surprised to see it
was back to its long and blond style. It was a good thing he was going
to remove the curse from himself or he would have to spend a fortune in
salons everytime he changed.
He took several minutes to calm himself down, before turning his
head and chest male and driving home.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Abigail was so engrossed in the book about Irish legends she
was reading that she didn't hear the knocking at the door for several
minutes. She looked up at the clock. It was nearly 7.00pm. Was Patrick
back already?
She marked her place in the book and headed down to the shop.
If Patrick seriously expected her to have worked out how to break his
curse already she was going to have words with him. This was new
territory for her. She had always known that she had abilities no-one
else had. She had a talent for reading people's auras which helped her
understand them, sometimes even better than they did.
But she had had no real evidence that any other form of magic
was real. She had spent the last two decades researching it and while
there had been many stories, there had been precious little proof.
Abigail had secretly begun to doubt that magic really existed
at all. Even her own power could be little more than a delusion. But
then Patrick had appeared and changed gender right in front of her. She
genuinely wanted to help Patrick, but it was intensly gratifying to
learn that magic really did exist. She reached the shop and looked out
to see who it was.
It was a woman, but it wasn't Patrick in his female shape. Then
Abigail recognized her. It was Amanda. Abigail nervously went to open
the door. Amanda had really freaked out when she had recognized Patrick.
Abigail just hoped she wasn't planning anything stupid.
Abigail opened the door and both women looked at each other
carefully. Amanda was the first to break the silence. "Is he...she
here?"
Abigail shook her head. "No, he's gone home. This must all be
very distressing for you."
"Did...what I saw really happen?" Amanda asked slowly.
"Yes," Abigail replied. "It did. If it's any consolation, he's
just as frightened by it as you are. Come on in, we have a lot to talk
about."
Amanda thought about it for a few moments and then entered the
shop. She evidently didn't trust Abigail yet, but she had to have
answers.
"Do you want something to drink? Coffee? Something stronger?"
Abigail asked.
"No...no, I'm fine." She collected her thoughts for a moment.
"Patrick came to my house on Sunday. I'd finished with him the night
before; he can't stop from wandering. Anyway, he turned up in a rage
and said I'd done something to him. Then, he..._changed_, right in
front of me! I thought I was going mad!" Amanda had to stop. Abigail
could see she was nearly in tears.
"It's okay. I've been helping Patrick try and stop his
transforming. I believe that in some way you were responsible."
"No!" Amanda denied vehermently, "I wasn't!"
"Not conciously," Abigail added quickly. "It's all rather
complicated. Perhaps it would be easier if I showed you some of the
charts I've made upstairs."
"Well...okay." Amanda followed Abigail up the narrow staircase.
"Tell me," Abigail asked as she climbed, "have you ever dreamed
of Ireland?"
It's Hard to be a Man Part Seven
by
Stephanie
Patrick sat on the couch and looked in the direction of his
bedroom. He couldn't believe he had gone and bought so much female
clothing. During that week he had needed to work very hard simply to
keep his new feminine side under control. He knew he was weakening
under its onslaught. What was very worrying was that it felt so good
and right when he was in female form.
The physical feelings he had when female were unsurpassed by
anything he had felt as a man, but it was more than just a physical
addiction. The worst thing about his curse was all the little daydreams
and alien ideas that kept popping into his head. These female thoughts
had centered on Hank for some reason. Even now, in his full male form,
Patrick still felt attracted to him.
He shivered and glanced at his bedroom again. His one ray of
hope in this mess was Abigail. All his hopes were pinned on her. If she
couldn't help him then eventually one of his lapses would end him up
in real trouble.
Patrick stood up and walked to the bedroom door. He opened it
and looked in at his bed. It was covered by all the purchases he had
made at the clothing shop earlier that afternoon. Even his old male
self would have found them attractive, but he wouldn't have considered
wearing them for one second. Patrick had intended to buy just one simple
outfit to experiment with in the day or so before Abigail cured him.
Instead he had lost it totally and bought almost an entire wardrobe.
But did it really matter? So he'd bought more than he had
intended, that just meant he'd have more to play with over the weakened
while he waited.
He slowly relaxed his control over his body. Almost immediately
the transforming surge that he had been holding back rushed over him.
His scalp tingled as his hair grew out. His waist shrank while his hips
grew and his breasts expanded to fill his shirt.
He wasted no time in pulling off his ill-fitting male clothes.
Patrick turned and looked at himself in the mirror. He hugged himself
as he admired his feminine beauty. There was no doubt about it; he was
better looking than any of the long line of women he had bedded over
the years. How could any man resist him?
Patrick made a conscious effort to turn away from the mirror
before he lost control again. Already he felt really turned on, and he
knew it wouldn't be long before he gave in to his desires and
masturbated. But what outfit to try? Something elegant and sexy, he
decided.
The choice of underwear had almost been made for him. Among
the lingerie was a basque with matching panties and stockings that
called out to Patrick. It was a virginal white in color, but its design
was anything but.
The rest of his underwear could wait. This is what he had to
wear first. He slipped the straps over his shoulders and shivered as
the cool silk pressed against his flesh. Doing up the upper catches on
the basque was as difficult as doing up the bra had been the day before,
but after a few minutes effort he had managed it. He straightened the
basque and revelled in the feelings it gave. It was tight, but the way
it held his body felt so good.
Patrick couldn't remember whether women wore the panties over
the suspender straps or under them. He finally decided to wear them over
the straps so he could pull them down easily if he needed to.
Patrick took his time with the white stockings as he didn't want
to wreck them. He eased them up his smooth, long legs and then fixed the
suspender straps to them. He pulled the lacy panties on last and then
went to look at himself in the mirror.
He found it impossible to believe he was looking at his own
reflection. The silk and lace of his basque and panties complimented his
body perfectly. He could just see his blond pubic hair through the
semi-transparent fabric of his panties. Patrick smiled and ran his hands
over his body. It was even more alluring to have his body clothed like
this than to see it naked.
He walked slowly over to the window, enjoying the swishing noise
of his stockings. The suspenders of the basque pulled strangely against
his thighs, though he enjoyed the sensation. Everything about the
clothes was turning him on, from the way the cups held his breasts to
the slightly constricting feeling around his torso.
Patrick looked out the window at the city skyline. He wished he
could go out, but he couldn't have any fun as a man. His headache would
cramp his style and he'd have to avoid any alcoholic drink or risk
losing control. Of course, he wouldn't have to worry about either if he
went out as a woman.
The idea startled him and his nipples got harder at the thought.
Could he risk that? He'd have to be very careful where he went and he'd
have to keep close control of his mind.
He shook his head and turned away. It was far too risky to go
out on his own as a woman. He returned to the bed and sorted out a
clingy, silvery top and short skirt to wear.
After he had pulled the top on he examined himself in the mirror.
He didn't want his underwear to be too obvious, but fortunately it seemed
to work okay. The top was tight and clung to his every curve. The skirt
was made of deep, red leather. It was very short and very sexy. It was
tight around his thighs and it restricted his movement a little, but it
felt good.
Finally, came the boots that reached almost up to his knees.
The heels were higher than those on the shoes he had worn to Amanda's
office, but Patrick felt the end result was worth the instability.
He looked in the mirror and laughed. He looked like a free and
easy girl out for action. Patrick tried copying a few poses he had seen
calendar girls in. The fire between his legs was growing, but he didn't
want to waste perhaps his last night as a woman stuck in his apartment.
Patrick wrestled with the two conflicting desires inside himself.
On the one hand he wanted to go out and enjoy the seductive feminine
feelings racing through his body, on the other was the fear of going out
as a woman. He was afraid he'd enjoy it too much, but it would be the
last time he could do this. Since his curse would be broken soon he
didn't have to worry about reigning in his new desires.
Perhaps if he had been in his male form he could have maintained
control, but slowly the female desires overwhelmed him. Over the past
few days his entire time as a man had been filled with nothing but pain,
while he had felt pleasure like nothing before as a woman.
Patrick reached for his address book. He decided to phone
Abigail and see if he could persuade her to go out for a drink together.
She would make sure Patrick wouldn't get in over his head on this final
excursion. That was fully his intention until he opened his book at
random and his eyes fell on the entry on the page. It was Hank's address.
An idea formed in his head. He could play a joke on his friend.
Hank prided himself on bedding any woman he set his sights on, and he
tended to get very depressed when he failed. Patrick could remember
vividly Hank's expression from when he had accidentally exposed his
female body to him. Patrick knew that Hank would grab any opportunity
to bed 'Rebecca'.
Patrick reached for the phone. This was perfect, he'd get
treated to a night out as a woman, he'd be protected by Hank from any
dangerous situations, and he would get to annoy him at the same time.
Drunk on female emotions he might be, but he could easily avoid getting
into bed with Hank. The trick was to ride along with most of the
feelings and not fight every single feminine thought that he had. It
didn't matter if he thought Hank was attractive, that would disappear
with the curse. All he would have to do was avoid going to bed with Hank
at the end of the evening. He wasn't that far under the influence of
his feminine half for that to be a real threat.
Even so, Patrick felt very nervous as he dialled.
"Hello?" came Hank's unmistakable voice.
"Hi, Hank. This is Becky. I just wanted to apologise for running
off like that earlier."
"Don't worry about that. I'm sorry I embarrassed you yesterday
by walking in on you."
Patrick laughed. "That's okay. There is one way you could make
it up to me. Take me out for dinner."
Patrick had to give Hank credit. His friend didn't miss a beat
before he said, "Sure! Eight o'clock okay with you."
"I'll be waiting," Patrick replied as seductively as he could.
"What about Patrick?" Hank was obviously slightly worried about
upsetting his friend, and boss, who had told him to leave 'Becky' alone,
but no warning was going to keep him from a sexy woman.
"Patrick's gone for the night. It's just me here...alone."
Patrick smiled to himself. There was no way Hank could resist that. He
was half-certain he heard Hank swallow on the other end of the phone.
"Don't be late," Patrick added and hung up.
He shivered with excitement as he walked over to the window. He
knew that he'd had effectively just told Hank to come over and fuck him.
Hank was going to be furious when Patrick cold-shouldered him later. He
looked at his female face in the mirror and frowned. He wasn't going to
be able to do much with his hair beyond tying it back, but he needed to
put on some make-up.
Patrick went back to the bedroom and found the bag of cosmetics
he had bought. He set off to the bathroom to start experimenting. Before
he reached his destination he paused. Was he pushing it too far? He had
lost control of himself as a woman several times. That was true, but
this time he wasn't fighting it all the way. As long as he didn't end
up in bed with Hank, he could revel in his feminine feelings.
Yeah, this time was different. He didn't have to worry about
long term effects. Sure, these strong feminine desires worried the old
womanizer in him, but he knew they would be gone soon and somehow that
removed the pressure from him.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Amanda had to sit down in a chair because her head was whirling
so much. Abigail's story was fantastic, ludicrous even, but it was the
only thing that came close to explaining what she had seen the previous
Sunday.
How else could she explain how she had seen Patrick change into
a voluptuous woman right in front of her eyes? Was the alternative that
much better, though? She looked down at the astrological diagram that
Abigail had given her. Personally, she couldn't make any sense out of
it whatsoever, but Abigail maintained that it showed how she was a
reincarnation of an ancient Irish witch.
"Even if all this is true," Amanda said, "what can I do about
it?"
"It's simple really," replied Abigail. "If you have the power to
do that to Patrick, you have the power to undo it. In fact, you may be
the only person alive that can undo it at all."
"I still don't know how I'm supposed to have done it in the
first place. I didn't feel any different that night."
Abigail pointed to a stack of books on a table. "I've been
searching for any reference to that old Irish tribe, and I think I can
work out a ceremony they performed that could break Patrick's curse."
Amanda thought for a moment. She was certain that it wasn't a
trick. No-one could have faked what she had seen and Abigail seemed so
genuine. "You have to admit, it's a very appropriate curse, isn't it.
That self-centered egotist now has to stop turning into the very type
of girl he likes to chase. It's a pity we can't leave him like that."
She saw Abigail about to protest so she added, "But I know we can't."
Much as Patrick deserved punishing this was too much. Abigail had told
her how stressed he was trying to cope.
"Good," said Abigail, "we have to move fast. The most holy day
of the tribe you used to belong to is just the day after tomorrow. I
don't know exactly what it celebrates, but it is somehow linked to the
holy day last week when you zapped poor Patrick."
Amanda snorted. "Don't feel sorry for him, he brought it on
himself. So...are you going to tell him."
"Tomorrow would be best. He's was as worried about meeting you
as you were of encountering him again. He's had a stressful day today.
I'll let him rest. There's nothing he can do until Saturday anyway."
Amanda nodded and studied the astrological chart again. She
still couldn't make any sense of it, but she didn't want to have Abigail
try to explain it again.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
As the hours passed, Patrick got more and more nervous. He had
quickly realized what a stupid mistake he had made in asking Hank to go
out with him. What had he been thinking?
He had to get out of it. He didn't want to phone Hank again. He
knew that when he heard his friend's voice he wouldn't be able to cancel
their date. What he should do, he decided, was to turn back into a man
and tell Hank that Becky had had to rush home for some reason.
However, he found it ever so hard to take the first step and
turn himself male again. Not because he couldn't do it, but because he
didn't truly want to. Part of him didn't want to disappoint Hank and
was actually excited about the evening ahead. He was also feeling a
little revulsion to his old male form, to its slightly hairy and flat
body.
It was as if his male form was the alien, unfamiliar body and
his female form was the one he had been born with. For the first time
he was starting to feel at home in his curvy, feminine body.
Slowly the hands on the clock crept towards 8.00pm. His doorbell
rang half an hour before Hank was due, making Patrick jump. He made a
conscious effort to control the panic he was feeling before heading to
the door. He knew he should not answer it. He should just stay quiet
until whoever it was went away. Patrick looked through the spyhole in
the door. It was Hank alright, obviously impatient to get to 'Becky'.
He felt his hands go to the lock. Desire was starting to
overcome his fear again, and Patrick lacked the willpower to stop
himself opening the door.
Hank smiled broadly at the sight of Patrick. He obviously liked
what he saw and made sure that Patrick knew it. Patrick shivered as
Hank's gaze rolled over his body.
"You're look fantastic," Hank told him.
"Thanks," Patrick managed to say. He knew he should slam the
door and stay as far away from Hank as possible, but he found it
impossible to move away from his friend. Instead, he walked into the
passage and pulled shut his apartment door behind him, closing off his
only escape route.
"So how are you finding city life?" Hank asked him as they
started to walk towards the elevator.
Patrick tried to remember the cover story he had invented for
'Becky', but his close proximity to Hank made it difficult to
concentrate. He couldn't stop himself from repeatedly glancing at Hank's
muscular body. "Oh...it's fine. I haven't been out much yet."
"You just leave that to me," Hank said warmly, "I know all the
best places here. You won't forget this night in a hurry."
No, I won't, thought Patrick. He smiled nervously at Hank as
they travelled down in the elevator. He knew he shouldn't be doing this,
that he'd probably regret it, but at the moment there was nowhere else
he wanted to be than with Hank. He was surprised that Hank hadn't noticed
his hair had returned to its original length and color. You couldn't
expect men to notice everything, he supposed.
As they left the building, Hank put his arm around Patrick's
shoulders. Patrick felt so vulnerable as Hank's fingers gently stroked
his shoulder. Hank's caress made Patrick's skin tingle and he'd sighed.
He looked up at Hank's face to see if his friend had noticed what effect
it was having on him.
Hank was looking straight ahead, but the smile on his face spoke
volumes. He already knew this girl was as good as his.
Patrick put his own arm around Hank's body. It felt very strange
to be doing this. Here he was, walking down the street with an arm
around a man! Patrick could feel Hank's muscles rippling under his thin
shirt.
All too soon for Patrick's liking they reached Hank's car and
they had to let go of each other. Hank opened the passenger door for
Patrick, who decided to watch Hank walk around to the other side of the
car before sliding onto the seat. His skirt was starting to ride up a
little so Patrick tugged it flat and wiggled in his seat until he was
comfortable.
Hank drove extravagantly, definitely risking a ticket. It took
Patrick a few minutes to work out why he was doing it. Hank was showing
off! He was trying to impress Patrick with his car. I suppose cars
really are an extension of a man's dick, he thought wryly. He had done
similar things before, but he had never really been consciously aware
of it before.
Hank had made reservations at a good Italian restaurant. It had
actually been Patrick that had told Hank about it, but he made of show
of not knowing it.
When they parked, Patrick decided to wait for Hank to open the
door for him. Well, if he was going to be a woman tonight he might as
well let Hank do all the work. Patrick had to be careful when getting
out of the car not to flash his panties at the passers-by. There was a
knack to sliding his ass around and then easing himself out of the car,
but he didn't quite have the hang of it.
If the waiter had any objections to Patrick's clothes he kept
them to himself. They were led quickly to their table. Patrick allowed
Hank to hold the chair out for him to sit down. Despite his
reservations, he was starting to enjoy himself. He was totally unused
to being treated this way.
The waiter handed the menu to each of them. Patrick tried to
find the most expensive dish on the menu. It always seemed to him that
that was the major consideration most women made when choosing their
food and wine. Anyway, Hank was paying. The waiter returned after a few
minutes to take their orders and to hand Hank the wine list.
Patrick was a little annoyed that he had been automatically
excluded from this decision. There were many drawbacks to letting men
take the lead, he realized. It was clear that Hank didn't know wines
that well and he was steered towards a reasonable choice by the waiter.
There was silence for several moments after the waiter left. It
was broken eventually by Hank, who asked Patrick, "So what do you do
then?"
Patrick dredged up the cover story he had thought up. "I used
to be a secretary. Got bored of that, so I came here looking for a
better job. Maybe in finance. I don't know yet. Something more
interesting, you know?"
Patrick didn't want to have to talk too much about himself. The
more he said, the more likely it was that a hole would appear in his
story. Patrick asked Hank about his job and was slightly annoyed to
notice that he was quite happy to talk on and on about himself. But at
least it meant Patrick wouldn't trip over himself with some aspect of
'Becky's' life.
As the evening passed, Patrick started to relax and enjoy
himself. He knew it should worry him that he was getting more and more
attracted to Hank, but somehow it just didn't matter as much as it had.
Patrick still planned to leave Hank at the doorstep and not invite him
in. He knew his self control could only take so much. Anyway, Patrick
didn't want Hank to think 'Becky' was the sort of girl who'd sleep with
him on the first date.
At the end of the meal, Hank reached over and held Patrick's
hand. It felt very small and vulnerable in Hank's powerful grip. He
shivered with passion at the touch.
"Shall we go?" Hank asked.
Patrick knew what he was really saying was 'your place or
mine?' Well, let him think that if he wanted to. Hank still wasn't
going to get lucky that night.
They took the long route back to Hank's car. Hank and Patrick
had their arms around each other again. Patrick found himself quite
enjoying the sense of protection he felt with Hank. He let his head
rest against Hank's side and breathed in his friend's masculine scent.
When they reached the car, Hank opened the door for Patrick
again. He turned to Patrick and paused before asking. "Do you want to
come back to my place for a drink?"
Not particularly subtle, thought Patrick. Though he knew the
way he had been acting that evening had been sending Hank a very strong
message. He smiled at Hank, "I'd really like to, but I have to be up
early tomorrow."
"Can't have you being late, can we." he said with a smile.
As they drove back to his apartment, Patrick tried to examine
his feelings. As much as he hated to admit it, his opinions had changed
over the course of the day. He was still worried by the way the feminine
side of him would occasionally grab control, but he was no longer
fearful of any female thought or action he had.
This whole experience had been a huge eye-opener for him. To
experience life as a woman, if only for a few hours, had taught him so
much. He realized he'd be a little reluctant to give up this new
feminine side he had discovered when Abigail perfected the cure.
Hank escorted him all the way up to his apartment door even
though Patrick said it was unnecessary. They stood for a moment holding
hands. Patrick knew now was the moment he had to exert his control.
Regretfully, he let go of Hank's hands and pulled his keys from his
handbag.
He opened the door and then turned back to Hank. "Thanks for a
wonderful evening, Hank."
Hank ran his hand up Patrick's arm. "It doesn't have to end here
if you don't want it to."
Patrick shivered. His desire for Hank was reaching new heights.
His erect nipples had to be obvious to Hank. It was only now that he
realized how aroused he really was. His whole being yearned to be
possessed by Hank's manly physique. He couldn't allow his body to rule
him. He had to be strong. "I have to admit I'm tempted, but I don't
think Patrick would be that happy to find you here when he gets back
tomorrow." Patrick hoped that reminding Hank of his male self would put
Hank off.
"I suppose this is goodnight, then." Hank replied, moving
forward to kiss Patrick.
Patrick was frozen with panic. He had no idea how to brush Hank
off politely. Then it was too late and Hank was gently lifting Patrick's
chin.
This isn't happening! Patrick told himself over and over. He
looked up into Hank's strong, blue eyes. They looked so warm and
inviting. So deep and caring.
Slowly, so slowly, Hank leaned down until their lips met. The
first kiss was soft and small, but the next was stronger and more
passionate.
Hank wrapped one arm around Patrick and held him tight. Patrick
was melting in the embrace. It felt so good to have Hank's strong body
pressed against his. He opened his mouth and felt Hank's tongue slip
into his mouth. For the first time in his life, he was taking the
submissive role, and with a man as well!
What delighted him most was a long lump on Hank's body that was
pushing into Patrick's stomach. Patrick was thrilled to be able to
provoke this response in his friend.
But he shouldn't be doing this! Playing the woman that night
may have been fun, but he could not afford to let it go too far. He had
to pull away now and leave Hank on the doorstep.
Reluctantly, he broke away from Hank and stepped slowly
backwards. Patrick stopped when they were only holding hands. All he
had to do now was let go and then shut the door, leaving Hank outside.
Nothing difficult about that.
Patrick's body wasn't paying attention to its mind, though. It
stepped back through the doorway without letting go of Hank.
Hank offered no resistance and allowed himself to be pulled into
Patrick's apartment. He shut the door behind him and then turned back
to face Patrick.
It's Hard to be a Man Part Eight
by
Stephanie
The door closed with a surprising sense of finality. The last
bastion of masculinity in Patrick's mind knew there was no escaping
his fate now. Hank was going to make love to him, and he was going to
willingly spread his legs for his friend.
Hank, with a smile on his face, moved slowly towards Patrick.
He was already undoing the buttons on his shirt, exposing his muscled
chest.
Patrick couldn't move. His eyes were wide with a mixture of
passion and terror, and his heart was hammering away so fast under the
swell of his breast that he thought it was going to burst.
Hank undid the last button on his shirt as he reached Patrick.
He looked down at what he thought was Patrick's cousin. She seemed a
little unsure of herself, which was fine with Hank. Obviously Becky
didn't get out that much. She had an absolutely stunning body, and had
been making very unsubtle come-on's to Hank all evening. Yet it seemed
she was inexperienced when it came to sex. This was fine with Hank, he
never liked it when girls tried to be dominant with him. He wrapped his
arms around her slim and curvy frame. He couldn't believe how lucky he
was to land this one so quickly.
They kissed again. This third kiss lasted longer and was more
passionate than the others. Hank's hand strayed down Patrick's back
until it reached his soft posterior. After gently rubbing Patrick's ass
through the leather skirt, the hand drifted down to his stocking clad
thigh.
Patrick could do no more than cling to Hank's body as he felt his
lover's hand start to work up under his skirt. The hand slid across the
silk of Patrick's panties and then down between his legs. His legs
almost gave way as he felt Hank's fingers lightly stroke his mound,
separated from it by only the thinnest of fabrics.
Patrick buried his head in Hank's bare chest and gave a long
sensuous groan. His hips bucked in time to Hank's fingers as they worked
on his lips of his vagina. He was building quickly to his first orgasm
when Hank's hand withdrew. Before he could protest, Hank's strong arms
had lifted him up and started carrying him into his spare bedroom.
He wrapped his arms around Hank's neck and smiled. Patrick's
whole life as a man, and everything outside the bedroom, seemed utterly
unimportant to him now. There was only the here and now. A man and a
woman about to engage in the perfectly normal act of lovemaking.
Without any effort Hank set Patrick down on the bed. Then he
stripped off his shirt. He looked down at Patrick with fiery desire in
his eyes. "Take off your skirt," he said.
Patrick hesitated and then reached down to undo the short
leather skirt. He had to stop his fingers shaking before he could manage
it. Then he quickly pushed it down his legs and off.
Hank reached down and gave a few teasing caresses to Patrick's
already wet mound. "Sit up," he instructed.
Patrick instantly obeyed. He let Hank pull off the silvery top
he was wearing. He was glad he was wearing the white basque underneath.
It was, without doubt, the sexiest piece of lingerie he had, and he
filled it so well. He could tell by the expression on Hank's face that
it was having the desired effect.
Patrick reached forward and starting working at the belt of
Hank's pants. Frantically, he tugged and pulled until he had Hank's
pants undone. He pulled them down and was confronted by the large lump
in Hank's shorts. Patrick's heart fluttered as he realized his face was
only a few inches away from Hank's member.
At the back of Patrick's mind the last part of his masculinity
tried to assert itself, but it was a hopeless battle. His yearning for
Hank's penis was growing steadily. Patrick edged slowly towards Hank's
crotch. Infinitely slowly he rubbed his cheek against Hank's penis
through the cotton fabric. He was pleased to feel it twitch in response.
Patrick smiled and placed his mouth in front of Hank's cock and
blew softly. He was delighted to see Hank tense in response. Hank's hand
ran through his luxurious hair and then gently pulled his head closer.
He took the hint and pulled down the shorts.
He was so close that he was hit in the face by Hank's cock when
it sprung free. He couldn't help giggling at that. Patrick reached up to
hold his friend's member. Had he ever had one of those? It seemed so long
ago. His trembling hand closed around Hank's hot length. Patrick planted
a kiss on the head of Hank's penis. Hank tensed again and gave a little
gasp.
Patrick smiled, he knew intimately how that felt. He placed one
hand on Hank's hip to brace himself, then he slowly slid his mouth down
onto his lover's pole.
"Oh...yes," Hank whispered.
Patrick was surprised by how big Hank's penis felt in his mouth.
There was no way he could get it all the way in without gagging. Every
time he breathed in Patrick could smell Hank's masculine scent.
Slowly he started to move up and down Hank's stalk, letting his
tongue pay particular attention to the head as he did so.
Hank gripped Patrick's head so as to control the rate of
Patrick's pumping. With his free hand, Patrick reached up to massage
Hank's testicles. The warm feeling in his crotch spread as he sucked
Hank. He could tell by the moans coming from Hank that his climax wasn't
far off.
Before that point was reached, however, Hank pulled Patrick away.
"Plenty of time for that later," Hank explained. Without warning he
reached down and grabbed Patrick's panties with both hands. With ease he
pulled the panties apart, exposing Patrick's willing vagina.
Patrick allowed himself to be pushed onto his back. This was the
moment of truth, the point where he became truly a woman. He knew he
should be fighting it, that he had been born a man, but there was no way
he could resist the feelings he had now.
He was a woman. Hank's woman.
Patrick's eyes were glued to Hank's penis, slick with his saliva,
as his friend kneeled on the bed. Hank gently lifted Patrick's legs up
and apart. Patrick rolled his head back onto the pillow and closed his
eyes. He was determined to remember every sensation of this first time
as a woman.
Hank brought his penis to the lips of Patrick's vagina and then
gently eased it in. A moan escaped Patrick's painted lips. So this was
what it felt like to be penetrated. The well-lubricated walls of his
vagina parted to admit Hank's hot length into his body.
By the time Hank had entered him fully, it felt like every part
of his body was filled by this welcome intruder. Hank's penis felt so
big, though it wasn't painful to have his friend inside him. Instead it
felt amazingly good. The feeling of fullness was so strange, but it was
what his body had yearned for to make him feel complete.
Hank started to thrust, slowly building up speed. The friction
ignited a fire in Patrick's belly. He opened his eyes so he could see
the man that was making love to him. Sweat was glistening on Hank's body
as he moved above him and it showed off his rippling muscles really well.
Patrick's nails dug into Hank's back as waves of pleasure swept
over him. He was writhing in ecstasy as he rapidly approached his climax.
Without warning, a fire of pure eroticism coursed through his body. He
gave a strangled cry, arched his back, and squeezed with his arms and
legs as tightly as he could. Hank had to stop thrusting as he was pulled
as deep as was possible inside Patrick.
Patrick could do nothing but lie there as his orgasm reverberated
throughout his entire being. It was slow to die away and seemed to last
forever in comparison to the powerful but abrupt male orgasms he was used
to.
Patrick opened his eyes to see Hank's grinning face inches from
his own. "I've never felt this good in my life!" Patrick told his friend,
and now lover, truthfully.
"We've barely started, baby," Hank replied. He started to thrust
again. Hank was rougher now, as his own needs became more and more
urgent. Patrick could do little more than hang on, totally overwhelmed
by the sensations his body was giving him.
The trusting grew faster and more frantic until, with one final
grunt, Hank tensed and spurted deep into Patrick.
Patrick imagined he could almost feel Hank's sperm inside him,
already beginning the long trek towards his womb. They hadn't taken any
precautions, but Patrick didn't care. He wanted to get pregnant. To feel
new life growing inside him.
Hank pulled out sooner than Patrick would have liked; he was
still revelling in the new found sensation of penetration.
They lay in each other's arms for several minutes as they
regained their strength. Patrick rested his head on Hank's chest and
marvelled. So that was what it was like for a woman. So intense and so
erotic. He no longer felt like a man in a woman's body. Now he had truly
become a woman.
He felt Hank's penis returning to life and he slipped down to
attend to it.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The morning sun rose to find Patrick trying to work out his
feelings. At some point during the previous night he had drifted off to
sleep, and he had awoken to find that hank had already left.
Part of him was relieved he didn't have to deal with Hank
straight away, the other part was sorry he had left so quickly. Hank
probably didn't want to run into Patrick coming home and catching him
with 'Becky'. Yes, that was why Hank had left in the night.
Stop thinking about Hank like you're a lovesick schoolgirl, he
thought to himself angrily. He felt strange when he thought back to the
events of the previous night, but he found it impossible to be revolted
at what he had done. Even now, it didn't seem wrong.
He concentrated on his male form and felt his feminine curves
melt away. Whatever it took, he was going to have to stay male until
Abigail had a cure ready. It was still too early in the day, but he
decided that as soon as he could he would head over to Abigail's shop to
see how far she had got.
Patrick walked around the room, trying not to notice how odd and
different his male body felt. Abigail would have a cure soon, Patrick
told himself. Then everything would go back to the way they were before.
It worried him slightly that he couldn't drum up much enthusiasm for the
idea.
He walked past the spare room where he had spent most of the
night with Hank and went into his own bedroom. Patrick fully intended to
dress in his male clothes until he saw the pile of feminine garments he
had bought the previous day.
He looked longingly at all the silky feminine clothes on his bed.
He didn't want to wear coarse and dull male clothes. He wanted to feel
soft and silky fabrics against his skin.
Patrick turned away angrily. "What is the matter with you?" he
asked himself out loud. "Don't you want to be a man again?"
No, I don't, he realized in a flash. He had spent the week in
absolute fear of losing control and sleeping with a man. Now that it had
actually happened he couldn't understand why he had been so afraid.
He let his body slip back into its female shape while he sorted
out a dress to wear.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Abigail and Amanda had talked well into the night. It was long
past midnight before Amanda headed home. Abigail knew Patrick's
ex-girlfriend was still in a state of some shock from what she had learnt
that day. Now Amanda knew what was going on, however, she no longer went
in fear of her own sanity.
Abigail woke up late and barely had time to get ready to open the
shop on time. Not that there would be many customers on a Friday, but she
couldn't really afford to stay shut. There was nothing more she could do
to help Patrick anyway until the following day.
She sat behind the counter slowly picking her way through a book
on Irish folklore for the tenth time. The ritual she, Amanda and Patrick
had to perform seemed simple enough, but she didn't want to make any
mistakes.
Abigail was surprised to hear the shop door open. Normally she
wouldn't see many customers until midday at least. She looked up to see
Patrick, in female form, walking into the shop. He was wearing a white
dress with a surprisingly revealing, plunging neckline.
"Patrick?" she asked. "What's the matter?"
"Nothing," he replied, slightly bemused.
"Then why are you in your female body and dressed like that?"
Abigail remembered the trouble she had had convincing him, just the
previous day, to wear a conservative business suit.
Patrick smiled, "I'm fed up with having a migraine all the time
and it'd be a shame to cover this body up."
Abigail blinked, "Are you feeling alright?"
"Never better," he replied. "Have you worked out a cure yet?"
"Yes, but I'm not sure you'll like one of the elements of the
ritual we have to go through."
"What's that then?"
"Your ex-girlfriend came here yesterday. I told her what had
been happening and she's agreed to help."
"Help!" Patrick exclaimed. "She was one who did this to me in the
first place!"
"Totally unintentionally," Abigail pointed out. "She genuinely
wants to help. Without her, I can't help you."
Patrick was silent for a few moments. "It doesn't matter anyway.
Something...wonderful happened last night and now I've had time to think
about it I've decided I can't give up this body."
"What?!" Abigail was utterly surprised. "What changed your mind?"
Patrick blushed. "Hank and me...well...we...you know."
"Oh no!" Abigail said in shock. "you couldn't keep control, could
you?"
"No, but as I said, it doesn't matter. I'm a woman now. I should
dress as a woman and act like one."
"Just because you slept with him doesn't mean you have to be a
woman forever!" Abigail said desperately. "You're still Patrick, and you
shouldn't stop trying to break the curse simply because this happened."
Patrick shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I've realized that
it's what I want."
"But how will you live?" Abigail protested. "You have no legal
identity as a woman."
"Hank will support me," Patrick replied with a smile. "In time
we'll marry and raise a family." he added wistfully.
"But, but..." Abigail had run out of things to say. She was
totally shocked by Patrick's sudden mental turnaround.
"I have to go," Patrick said. "I want to surprise Hank at the
office. Thank you for all you've done." He quickly turned and left
before Abigail could raise any more objections.
She watched him walk past the shop window, stumbling a little on
his high heels. Now what was she going to do? After a few minutes she
got up and closed the shop. This was an emergency and she was going to
need some help.
Not far away, Patrick drove into the car park of the building he
worked at. He locked his car and headed to the entrance.
The receptionist called out to him as he walked past. "Can I help
you, miss?"
Patrick belatedly realized no-one would recognize him in his
female body. "I'm here to see Hank Cox, I'm a friend of his."
"If you'll wait a moment I'll see if he's in." The receptionist
replied.
Patrick thanked her and scanned one of the paintings hanging on
the wall as he waited.
"Rebecca?"
Patrick turned to see Hank walking down the stairs. "Hiya, I
decided to drop in and say hello." He shivered as he walked towards
Hank, remembering what they had done the previous evening.
Hank enveloped Patrick in a strong embrace and they kissed.
Already, Patrick could feel himself becoming aroused. He knew in every
fibre of his being that he was meant to be with Hank.
Together, they headed up to the office where Hank worked. "We're
very busy at the moment," Hank explained. "It isn't helped with Patrick
being off ill a lot this week. Have you seen him this morning?"
"No, I have a feeling he won't be around for awhile." Patrick
replied with a playful smile.
In the office, everyone was hard at work. Hank introduced him to
all of the people there. He pretended he was meeting them for the first
time. They were so busy Hank didn't have much time to talk with him, but
he didn't really mind. He was with Hank and that was all that really
mattered.
It felt odd to be at work, but not doing anything, just watching
the others struggling to meet the deadline. He couldn't help but be
impressed by the way Hank was co-ordinating the department. Patrick
thought that when he left, Hank would be a more than adequate
replacement.
Left? he thought in slight confusion. Why would he leave? Then
the answer came to him; by then he would be married to Hank and wives
were supposed to stay at home and look after the kids.
Patrick tried to imagine what his kids would look like. If they
took after their mother and father they'd be near perfect.
Hank had to go and see Patrick's boss through the lunch break,
but he told the others they shouldn't work through the hour. They needed
the rest and would be no good if they were totally exhausted.
Patrick headed off with Ian and Susan to a small restaurant the
two often went to. They acted quite differently around him now than they
did when he in his male form. Ian was, if anything, even more reserved
than normal, while Susan was more open and glad to have another woman to
talk to.
Because Ian was so quiet, Susan led the conversation. Patrick
steered it around to talking about Hank and his male self.
"Hank's okay," Susan said, "but can get a bit full of himself at
times. A word of warning, he does tend to be a little free with his
affections. If I were you I'd keep a close eye on him."
Patrick bridled a bit at that, but kept it from showing. She was
jealous, that was it. Susan had had her chance and now it was too late.
Patrick changed the subject, it was time to find out what his workers
really thought of him. "So what's my cousin like? I've never seen him at
work."
Susan was quite for a moment, obviously searching for a tactful
way to say what she thought of him. "He can be a bit single-minded and he
can push us hard, but he really is committed to the job."
Patrick smiled, "Yeah, he was always like that. It seems to have
done him okay up to now."
Susan nodded, "He just needs to think of the people working under
him a little more. I shouldn't complain, we've done well in bonuses since
he took over, even if that does mean my social life is dead. I--"
Ian dropped his coffee, spilling it over the table. Susan and
Patrick jumped out of the way, managing to avoid getting any of it on
them.
"Ian!" Susan exclaimed. "Watch out!"
"S-sorry," he muttered and tried to clean the mess up with a
napkin.
"Are you okay?" she asked, "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I-I'll be right back." he stammered and then staggered off to
the men's room.
"Hope he isn't coming down with what your cousin has," Susan said
worriedly as she watched him leave.
"Somehow, I doubt he is," Patrick replied. What had caused Ian
to freak like that? he wondered.
In the men's room, Ian staggered into a stall and locked the
door. He sat down heavily. He was remembering. Remembering all of it.
Muted alarm bells had been ringing all morning, ever since Hank's
girlfriend had appeared. He had seen her driving Patrick's car a couple
of days before, but now he knew he had seen her once before that.
It had been back on Monday when he had left work to head home. He
had noticed Patrick's car parked down an alleyway outside some weird,
little shop. Ian had edged closer and had seen Patrick inside the shop.
And then Patrick had...changed! Right in front of Ian's eyes he had
become a voluptuous blonde woman!
The very same woman that was sat out there, right now, with
Susan!
It's Hard to be a Man Part Nine
by
Stephanie
"And I thought I couldn't be surprised anymore," Amanda said,
shell-shocked. She turned to Abigail who was negotiating her car back
towards her shop. "Are you sure of this?"
"Yes!" Abigail replied for the third time. "I wouldn't have
pulled you out from your office like that if I wasn't certain."
"I just can't believe it. Patrick and Hank together...having
sex. And he doesn't want to break the curse?"
"It's...worse than that. He wants to stay female and marry Hank."
"MARRY HANK!?!" Amanda almost screamed.
"Ow! Mind my eardrums!"
"Sorry." Amanda tried to find something coherent to say. "Neither
Hank or Patrick are the marrying type. Why did Patrick change his mind so
fast?"
"He's been trying to control his new body all week. Like someone
driving a new car they can't quite handle yet. Unfortunately, he crashed
before he could get enough experience, and now he's wandering around in
shock."
"He's not the only one." Amanda tried to digest all she had been
told. "So you think this is his reaction to making love as a woman? But
why settle on Hank of all people? He's almost as bad as Patrick is, or
was."
"Perhaps he's acting the way he believes the ideal woman
should?" Abigail suggested.
"Serves him right if he is." Amanda rubbed her forehead. Now she
was getting a migraine. "So what are we going to do?"
"Simple," Abigail replied, "we carry on with the ritual as
planned. Patrick doesn't have to do much more than simply be there for
it to work."
"Which in his current state is the absolutely last place in the
world he'll want to be," Amanda pointed out. "How do we get him there and
keep him there?"
"That's...something we're going to have to work on." Abigail
replied uncertainly.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Susan knocked on the door of the bathroom cubicle. "Ian," she
called, "are you okay?"
"W-what are you doing in the men's room?" came a small voice
from inside.
"I came to check if you were alright. You've been in there for
twenty minutes!"
"I'm...ah...fine. You go on ahead and I'll catch you up soon."
"Okay, Ian." Susan replied. What the hell was up with him? she
thought. "Me and Becky will see you back at the office. Are you sure
everything is okay?"
"Yep, everything is fine!" Ian replied, trying to sound upbeat,
but only managing to sound terrified. He relaxed slightly as he heard
Susan walk from the room.
At least he wouldn't have to go out there and face Patrick again.
How had his boss done the impossible and turned himself into a woman? Did
Hank know he was sleeping not with Patrick's cousin, but with Patrick
himself? Probably not, Hank and Patrick were friends, but not that sort
of friends.
Ian's mind drifted back to the previous Monday night when he had
seen Patrick do the impossible. His boss had been down an alley in a
small occult bookshop when he had changed sex. Ian was certain that was
not a coincidence. Maybe it was run by a witch and she had done it to
him. The idea seemed stupid, but no more absurd than what he had seen
with his own eyes.
He decided the coast was clear and cautiously opened the stall
door. The men's room was deserted. He quickly moved over to the washroom
door and looked into the restaurant. By opening the door a crack he could
see where he, Susan and 'Becky' had been sitting. Someone else was
sitting there now.
Ian slipped back into the restaurant and headed for the exit,
checking all around himself for his boss. Back on the street he tried
to decide where to go. He couldn't head back to the office, because
Patrick would be there.
Perhaps he should check out that shop. Find out what happened to
Patrick, and maybe find a way to reverse what had been done to him.
It was a short walk to the shop. Looking in through the window
at the piles of occult and New Age books Ian was beginning to question
his judgement. What if whatever had been done to Patrick was done to him?
He opened the door and jumped three feet in the air when it
triggered a little bell. He stood dead still as he waited to see if
anyone would answer it.
After several heartbeats he convinced himself that no-one was
coming and edged into the shop. He had to find something to help Patrick.
Carefully he looked around the small bookshop. It was impossible to tell
if any of the books was of any use. He didn't know which ones carried
the information he needed.
He looked behind the counter. Perhaps the witch kept her
important stuff there.
"Back away from the cash register," came a voice. A female voice.
Ian turned in horror to see a woman standing halfway up a narrow
flight of stairs. She had red hair and was dressed like a cross between
a gypsy fortune teller and a hippy. "Don't turn me into a woman!" he
screamed and dived behind the counter.
Abigail frowned. That was not the normal reaction of a thief.
"What did you say?"
"I recognize that voice," said Amanda behind her. "It's Ian,
isn't it? You work with Patrick."
Ian carefully poked his head above the counter. He recognized
the second woman as well. "You're Patrick's latest girlfriend."
"Latest ex-girlfriend," she corrected him. Amanda moved towards
him and he ducked down. "Look it's alright. We're not going to do
anything to you. We're trying to cure Patrick before he gets into any
more trouble."
Ian's head popped up again, "Really?"
"Really. Come on upstairs and we'll explain."
Ian decided he couldn't risk running in case the red-haired
woman really was a witch. Perhaps if he played it cool he'd be okay.
Reluctantly he followed them upstairs.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Patrick was in seventh heaven as he walked around the shop. He
had spent the last three quarters of an hour getting a make over and
trying out various cosmetics.
He had sat around the office for awhile after he and Susan had
got back from the restaurant. Hank was really too busy to pay much
attention to him, but Patrick wasn't annoyed. At least he was close to
the man he loved.
After an hour, Hank had suggested Patrick should do a little
shopping or something. It'd be much better than hanging around a boring
office waiting for him to finish work. Hank gave Patrick a hundred
dollars as spending money and told him to get something nice.
Patrick didn't need the money at all, but as far as Hank knew he
was an unemployed girl come to the city to look for a job. He made a
show of trying to refuse the money before accepting it. He made Hank
promise to come around to his apartment as soon as he finished work.
Hank only agreed when he was convinced that 'Becky' would be there alone.
Patrick had no problem about taking Hank's money. After all, a
husband was supposed to support his wife. Wife. He rolled the word around
his mind as he collected his purchases and set off for the clothing
section of the store. He was going to be Hank's wife!
He spent nearly all of Hank's money on a bottle of perfume with
a French name. He still had a few hours to kill before Hank finished
work. What better way to spend that time, he thought, than in shopping
for clothes. A woman couldn't have too many clothes, and the ones they
had here were so sexy it made his body tingle. Being a woman was such
fun!
Quite a while later, Patrick had trouble holding on to all of his
purchases as he made his way to his car. He tripped and almost went
flying. Wearing high-heels took a lot of effort and he wasn't nearly
good enough in them yet. He loaded his new clothes and cosmetics into
the back of his car and gratefully settled into the driving seat. His
legs ached due to his shoes. How did women put up with those things?
Well, he'd just have to work at it until he got it right. The idea of
not wearing high-heeled shoes simply did not occur to him.
He hadn't mastered the art of driving in them yet either, so he
removed them before he headed back to his apartment. It was nearly
4.00 PM before he finally made it home. It was still a couple of hour
before Hank would finish work. Still, he could use that time to get
ready.
Patrick could tell something was wrong the second he opened the
door of his apartment. He stood still for a moment, straining to hear
any noise that might be coming from his apartment. "Who's there?" he
called.
Amanda stepped into the entrance hall and headed over to him. "I
let myself in."
Patrick gave a relieved smile. "I though I was being robbed for
a moment." He dropped his purchases off in his bedroom and then headed
back to the main room.
"We need to talk," His ex-girlfriend said.
"No, we don't." Patrick replied. "I suppose Abigail told you of
what I was planning?"
Amanda nodded, "And I think I was more shocked than her. The
Patrick I knew would never do this, would be horrified even to
contemplate it."
"Maybe," Patrick said, "but I'm not Patrick anymore. I'm
Rebecca! Hank's girlfriend. Before too long I'll be his wife!"
"Patrick, that is not you talking! You've had an extreme shock
and this is your mind trying to compensate. You need help."
"I'm not mad!" Patrick replied hotly. "I know exactly what I'm
doing!"
"I'm not saying you're mad," Amanda replied, already in danger
of losing her temper. "You'll thank us for this later."
Patrick stopped and looked at her suspiciously. "Us?" He saw a
movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see Abigail emerge
from the kitchen.
"I'm not happy about doing this either," she said, "but there is
no other way. Ian, secure the door."
Yet another figure emerged from the kitchen and started edging
around the three women.
Now Patrick was angry. "What right did you have to tell Ian?!"
"He worked it out for himself," Abigail replied. "Go on Ian."
Ian gave Patrick a wide berth and then headed down to the front
door.
Patrick folded his arms under his breasts and glared at the two
other women. "So what now?"
"Now we keep you here until past midnight." Abigail replied.
"Then we perform the ritual and break the curse."
Patrick took a step back. "No! You can't do this! What right do
you have to break up this wonderful thing me and Hank have?!" He stabbed
a finger at Amanda. "You're just jealous. You're only doing this because
I jilted you for Hank!"
"Dear God," Amanda exclaimed. "He's even more egotistical than
when he was a man. Let's get him into the bedroom."
Amanda and Abigail moved forward as one and grabbed an arm each.
Together they started to pull Patrick towards his bedroom. He wasn't
going quietly and was fighting them every step of the way.
"Come on Ian!" Amanda called, "Give us a hand."
Ian had been standing dumbly watching the fight unfold. He was
still trying to digest the story he had been told. He was glad at least
that Patrick had confirmed the story was true in the way he had acted
towards Abigail and Amanda.
He moved towards Patrick and tried to work out where he could
hold him and cause the least embarrassment to either of them. It was
really disturbing him how much Patrick's new form was attractive to him.
His boss really did make a very sexy woman.
Ian waited until he was sure he wouldn't get kicked and then
grabbed Patrick's legs. Ian's boss struggled and cursed, but the three
working together could just hold him.
"What do we do with him?" Ian asked as he held on to Patrick's
shapely legs desperately. His head was pressed against Patrick's stomach
and he tried to ignore how close he was to his boss's feminine crotch.
"Into his bedroom," Amanda replied.
They manhandled Patrick into his own bedroom. While Amanda and
Ian held him down on the bed Abigail gathered a few of the belts from
the large pile of female clothes he had bought.
The belts made good straps and they soon had his hands and feet
tied around the legs of the bed. Patrick was stuck spread-eagled and was
unable to move.
He glared up at his captors, "When I get out of this I'm going
to fucking kill every last one of you!"
"Well," remarked Amanda, "at least some of the old Patrick is
still in there. You keep quiet or we'll gag you."
"I really am sorry about all this, Patrick." Abigail told him.
"I wish it hadn't come to this, but you will thank us for this later."
Patrick just glared angrily at her.
She looked away, "Yes, well. Amanda, you and I need to start
preparing for the ritual. You need to be word perfect when we do it for
real." She turned to Ian, "You stay here and keep an eye on Patrick."
"Me?" Ian said worriedly.
"There's no-one else who can. Amanda and I are going to be busy.
You'll be okay."
The two women headed back to the main room to prepare for the
ritual. Ian avoided Patrick's gaze and sat down in a chair.
Ian was beginning to regret ever getting involved over the
mystery of Patrick's transformation. It was far too late to back out
now. Anyway, overbearing boss that Patrick was, Ian couldn't just walk
away and leave him as a lovesick bimbo. He looked up to see Patrick
struggling on the bed.
"Ian?" his transformed boss said. "If you don't release me, NOW,
you're fired. Do you understand that? Fired!"
"Patrick, please relax. It'll be over soon." Ian said, trying to
be reassuring. He knew that if Patrick's mind didn't return to normal
after the curse was lifted he'd lose his job. This was just getting
worse and worse.
Patrick looked at him, "But I don't want it to be over. I'm a
sexy girl. Do you have any idea how this body feels. Not just on the
outside, but on the inside. Nothing else comes close."
Ian looked down at Patrick stretched out on the bed. It was a
fantastic body, he had to admit. In any other situation he'd be trying
to get to know the girl a lot better.
He watched, spellbound, as Patrick continued to struggle against
his bonds. His eyes drank in Patrick's shapely body, from the breasts
that rolled and moved under the revealing dress, down to the long,
shapely legs struggling to break free. The movements grew less frantic
and more sensuous, almost as if Patrick was enjoying it.
Ian looked up to see Patrick smiling broadly at him. With great
relish, Patrick breathed the words "take me."
Ian jumped as if he had been stung and retreated over to the
window. His face reddened with embarrassment as he heard Patrick laugh
softly. He was almost painfully aware of the erection in his pants. He
wanted that woman so badly, but 'she' was Patrick, his boss!
"I wouldn't worry about it, Ian." Patrick said with an amused
tone in his voice. "It's perfectly natural for a body like mine to get
you all hot and hard."
"It's not natural at all!" Ian retorted.
"Perhaps, but I can tell how much you want me. It's written all
over your face."
"Shut up!" Ian turned to look out of the window. He checked his
watch. It was still more than seven hours to midnight and he was mentally
exhausted already.
Patrick said nothing more. After several minutes Ian had enough
courage to turn around and face Patrick again. He was surprised to see
that Patrick had fallen asleep. How could he fall asleep under conditions
like that? Probably didn't get much rest the previous night, when he was
with Hank, Ian thought.
Ian shook his head and sighed. He still couldn't believe it.
Hank obviously couldn't tell the difference. Ian wondered if he could.
If he had been making love to a magically transformed man, would he have
been able to tell if, behind the bountiful breasts and soft skin, lived
the soul of a man?
No wonder Patrick had gone nuts. Ian doubted he would deal with
it better if he woke with feminine lips between his legs instead of his
manhood. Or if his chest suddenly held two sensuous globes. His erection
was uncomfortably tight in his pants and his mouth was dry.
He stared at Patrick for several long minutes. Finally, he came
to a decision and he moved his chair closer to the bed. Being very
careful not to wake Patrick, Ian leaned over and breathed in the scent
of the sleeping woman.
Ian shivered uncontrollably. Even the smell cried out with sex
appeal. He looked up at the door to check no-one was there. Then he
carefully held his hand barely above one of Patrick's breasts. He was so
close to it that he imagined he could feel Patrick's body heat.
He looked up at Patrick's face, and almost died of fright when he
saw his boss's eyes were open.
Patrick smiled and whispered "It's alright. Go ahead."
Ian wavered for a moment before giving in to his desires. Slowly,
he brought his hand down to cup Patrick's soft flesh. Patrick groaned
sensuously as Ian caressed him. Ian could feel Patrick's aroused nipple
pushing into his palm.
His confidence grew, and he started to massage Patrick's breast.
At that moment he wanted to have Patrick more than any other woman he
had ever been with. His boss might once have been a man, but now he was
the embodiment of feminine sensuality.
He slipped his hand inside Patrick's dress to get better access.
Patrick hadn't bothered with a bra that morning, preferring to let his
breasts swing free. Patrick's skin was so smooth and unblemished it only
made Ian want him more
"Ohh, that feels so good," Patrick said dreamily.
Ian looked up at Patrick's face. There was no hint of masculinity
in that face. Nothing that could point to Patrick's formally male status.
Slowly he leaned over and their lips met.
Ian felt as if he had gotten an electric shock from Patrick and
the kiss rapidly grew more passionate. Patrick's lips opened, inviting
Ian's tongue into his mouth. By now Ian was leaning over Patrick and his
erection was pressing into the transformed man under him.
Finally they broke for air. Patrick looked at the aroused man on
top of him, he was keenly aware of how far Ian had fallen under his
spell. "Could you undo my right hand, my love." he asked.
"I shouldn't," Ian said, but without any force.
"I won't be going anywhere while you're with me, will I?"
Ian caught the double meaning and swallowed. "I suppose it can't
hurt." He reached up and quickly undid the belt holding Patrick's right
hand.
Patrick's free hand ran softly down the side of Ian's face, and
then headed downwards. It eagerly grabbed at the hard lump in Ian's
jeans.
Ian needed no further encouragement and undid his own belt. He
was shaking now and beyond much rational thought. This beautiful
creature, that used to be a man, but was now a woman, wanted him!
Patrick was rougher now, more urgent, pulling Ian's jeans open
and down. His shorts quickly followed.
Patrick's eyes widened with lust as he saw Ian's penis, erect in
all its glory. "Closer, closer." he urged.
Ian kneeled over Patrick the best he could with his jeans and
pants round his ankles and edged forward. Patrick pulled him closer
still. It was all Ian could do to stop himself from reaching orgasm when
Patrick's hot, velvet-soft mouth closed on his hot and hard length.
Patrick's hand gripped Ian's ass and his nails dug in, but the
young man was past caring. The hand controlled the speed of thrusting
and only removed itself when Ian had settled into the rhythm Patrick
wanted.
Ian had to lean forwards to allow his penis easy access to
Patrick's eager mouth. He was gripping on to the backboard of the bed and
trying to retain enough self-control to avoid crying out. The fact that
there were two women in the next room who must not find out what he was
doing only heightened his excitement.
He felt himself building to the inevitable explosion and he did
his best to keep it at bay for as long as possible. Patrick's tongue
flicked over the head of his penis and he lost the battle against his
orgasm. He gave a strangled, quiet cry and pumped his seed into Patrick's
mouth.
Then, just as he was recovering, he was suddenly thrown backwards
and off the bed, slamming his head into a wardrobe as he hit the floor.
He gave a cry of pain and confusion. He put his hand to his throbbing
head and tried to work out what had happened.
Patrick was sitting upright on the bed working feverishly at the
two belts restraining his legs. He must have freed his other hand when he
was sucking me off, Ian realized.
"Sorry," Patrick told him as he worked, "you're very cute and I
really didn't want to do that."
He tried to struggle to his feet, but Patrick was free. Ian could
only watch as Patrick wiped some cum from the side of his mouth, and then
grabbed his handbag.
"Ian?" came Abigail's voice from the hallway. "What's going on."
Patrick wasted no time leaping from the room and running to the
front door. From the confused yelling and cursing it was obvious to Ian
that Patrick had made a clean getaway.
Some moments later, Amanda prowled into the bedroom looking very
angry. "What the hell hap--?" she started before she saw Ian collapsed
on the floor.
Ian finally managed to struggle to his feet. It was only then
that he remembered his jeans were around his ankles. He quickly tried to
pull them up as Amanda, now joined by Abigail, could only stare on in
disbelief.
"You sick bastard!" Amanda exclaimed. "What the hell were you
thinking! That was Patrick!"
Ian tried to think of something to say and failed.
Amanda hadn't finished yet. "I just can't believe this! Did you
like doing it with a man? Perhaps you should be a woman like him. In
fact, I wish mmfff!"
Abigail held her hand tightly over Amanda's mouth. "Let's not
risk creating another problem, okay?"
Amanda nodded slowly and Abigail took her hand away. She thought
about continuing her tirade against Ian's stupidity, but decided to storm
out instead. "Men! Absolutely nothing but trouble!" she said angrily as
she left. Abigail hurried after her.
Ian turned and looked down at the bed and tried to sort out his
emotions. He had known all the time that it was Patrick, but it hadn't
seemed to bother him.
Patrick was laughing as he drove away. That had been a very close
call, but nothing would stop him being the woman he undoubtedly was. He
felt bad about what had happened with Ian for two reasons. The first was
that he had cheated on Hank, his future husband. The second reason was
that Ian was a really cute guy. Patrick thought that if it wasn't for
Hank he'd could really go for him.
As soon as he felt he was far enough away from home to be safe
he stopped and pulled out his mobile phone. "Hank? It's me, Becky. Slight
change of plans. I'll meet you at your place."
It's Hard to be a Man Part Ten
by
Stephanie
Patrick lazed in the bed and listened to Hank working in the
kitchen. He felt a little guilty at letting Hank fix his food; it was
supposed to be the woman who cooked for the man. Well, he was still
being 'wooed' by Hank, so he didn't mind him doing these little extras
for now. When they were married it would be a different story.
All in all, it had been a perfect weekend. On Friday night they
had hit the clubs and had a riotous time. He had basked in the admiring
glances from men and in the envious looks from other women. He was so
lucky to be such a beautiful girl. They had only stayed until an hour
or so past midnight. Patrick and Hank had been very eager to get back
into bed with each other.
Hank's apartment was quite different to Patrick's. It was about
the same size, but in a less expensive part of town. Hank was as untidy
as most single men. The only two really expensive items in the place
were the hideously complicated home theatre system and a large double
bed.
The next day, a Saturday, had seen them taking a very long time
to get up. In the afternoon they had hit The Blackmount Amusement Park.
Hank had even won a large cuddly toy for him.
Then it was back home and more rampant lovemaking. He could
still feel Hank's powerful hands digging into his breasts from when they
had had sex doggie style. He thought back to when they had just been two
men who went out girl hunting together a lot. He found it difficult to
remember when he had just been Hank's male colleague, instead of his
female lover.
Patrick felt a strange twinge of disquiet when he saw Hank
walking back naked, carrying their breakfast. He couldn't work out what
was worrying him. The sensation quickly passed and he forgot about it.
He sat up, exposing his breasts. That hardly mattered now after the
intimacy they had shared. "I can't eat all that!" he remarked when he
saw the bacon and eggs Hank had cooked.
"Course you can," Hank replied. "Anyway, we've probably sweated
off several pounds the last couple of days. We need to keep our energy
up."
"Quite, it'd be a disaster if we couldn't get it up."
"With you around, I doubt that'll ever be a real problem."
Patrick was surprisingly hungry and he started on the large
breakfast.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Come on, Ian, open up. I can sense you're in there!" Abigail
listened intently. She thought she had heard movement inside Ian's
apartment, but she could not be sure.
"It's alright, I don't blame you for what happened." She was
starting to feel foolish shouting through the door. She had got some
odd looks from some of the other inhabitants of the building.
Ian had disappeared shortly after the debacle two days before.
Abigail hadn't been able to contact or see him since, and she was
getting worried about him.
She was about to give up and leave when she heard the door being
unlocked. Ian opened the door a crack, and looked out nervously. It was
obvious that he hadn't been getting much sleep. "Are you alone?"
"Yeah, Amanda doesn't even know I've come here."
Ian let her inside and then closed the door. "Do you...um...want
something to drink?"
"Do you have any coffee?"
"Yeah, sure."
Ian didn't talk as he made Abigail her coffee. Abigail had been
as surprised as Amanda when she had found out that Ian had made love
with Patrick. It hadn't occurred to her that anything like that could
happen. Obviously, Ian was having a hard time understanding it as well.
"I was wondering why I hadn't seen you back at my shop the last
few days," Abigail said. "We need to plan for our next attempt."
"You're joking, aren't you? Do you think I can face Amanda or
Patrick again after what happened? God alone knows how I'll cope with
work tomorrow. I don't know what'll be worse, facing Patrick as a man or
as a woman."
Abigail sighed. "You have to stop hurting yourself over this.
Just put it behind you and carry on."
"I can't do that. How can I forget how I fucked a man! I'm not
queer!"
"Patrick has a very sexy, female form and the mindset of a sex
kitten. You saw a sexy girl who wanted you. Even though you knew 'she'
was really a man it was impossible to stop yourself reacting to 'her'."
Ian was silent for a few moments. "Perhaps, but I should have
been able to stop myself."
"Perhaps you were suffering from your own type of shock. Will you
come back and help us? We can't leave Patrick like that, can we?"
Ian thought about the sexy curves Patrick's female body had. "No,
you're right. Is Amanda okay about me coming back?"
"She's okay about it. She has quite a temper at times, but she's
had more than enough time to calm down."
"Okay, I'll probably feel better doing something than just
sitting around here."
"Great!" Abigail replied brightly. Now all I have to do, she
thought to herself, is convince Amanda not to strangle Ian on sight.
Amanda's anger hadn't died away, despite what Abigail had said.
She still held a level of resentment against Ian for what had happened.
Abigail was sure she could talk her round, though.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Ian's heart was racing as he went into the office the following
Monday morning. Despite Abigail's reassurances, he still felt bewildered
and humiliated by the 'incident' with Patrick.
He was relieved to see no sign of his boss in either a male or
female form. He was slightly late and everyone else was in. Susan was up
by the coffee machine and she headed over to him as he arrived.
"What happened to you on Friday?" she asked.
After all that had happened he had forgotten he hadn't gone back
to the office on Friday afternoon. "Ummm...I wasn't feeling that well."
"I thought that was the problem. I told Hank that was probably
what had happened."
"Damn, I forgot to call in."
"Don't worry about it," Susan told him, "Hank's got a bigger
problem. Patrick hasn't turned up to work again. Apparently, he hasn't
seen him since Thursday."
Ian decided against pointing out that Hank had probably been
seeing him all weekend. To his embarrassment, Ian realized he was more
than slightly jealous of Hank.
He moved over to his desk. Inside Patrick's office, Hank was on
the phone. He put it down and then walked back into the main office.
"Good to see you're back, Ian." Hank said. "With Patrick missing we'll
need everyone we've got."
"Still not answering his phone?" Susan asked.
"I just keep getting his answerphone," Hank replied. "This just
isn't like him. He acts all weird last week and then he disappears."
Throughout the morning Ian attacked his work with a vengeance.
It helped him keep his mind off of what he and Patrick had done. At the
same time, Hank was more and more distracted.
Patrick was addicted to work and his career. He simply wouldn't
take two days off of work without at least telling someone. Hank had not
seen his friend all weekend either. He hadn't minded at the time because
he was busy with Becky, but it was very strange not to have heard or seen
anything of his friend in four days.
Hank got two calls during the morning, but they were both from
Becky. She was off shopping again. Hank wondered how much of his money
she had gotten through that morning. Never mind, she more than made up
for that in bed. At least she hadn't insisted on spending the morning at
work with him again.
By lunchtime, Hank finally decided he had to go to Patrick's
apartment and see if anything was wrong. The traffic was unusually light
and he was able to get there in good time.
He knocked loudly on the door of Patrick's apartment. Hank didn't
wait very long. If Patrick could answer the phone he would have done so
long before. He reached down and tried the handle.
To his surprise the door was unlocked. Hank pushed open the door
and walked cautiously inside. He quickly scouted around the apartment.
Nothing seemed out-of-place or missing. So there hadn't been a robbery or
something like that. As he was walking back to the front door Hank heard
a noise in Patrick's bedroom.
Cautiously, he opened up the door and looked inside. This room
was in a mess; Patrick's clothes were covering the entire floor.
"Oh, hiya!" said a familiar voice from the bed.
"Becky?" Hank said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
"Well, I am supposed to be living here until I get a place of my
own, remember?"
Hank finally noticed that the clothes she was wearing didn't fit
her. "What are you doing?"
"Just playing," 'Becky' replied.
Patrick had done some more shopping since leaving Hank's
apartment that morning. After awhile even that had started to get boring,
so he had headed back to his own apartment.
There he had started his own private fashion show with all the
female clothes he had bought in the previous few days. When he had got
bored of that he had wandered over to the wardrobe holding all his male
clothes. They seemed odd and unusual to him now. Just days before he
would not have considered wearing anything else.
He leaned into the wardrobe and breathed in the masculine scent
emanating from the clothes. Patrick felt his nipples erect and a now
familiar longing start to build in his loins. He couldn't help smiling
at the thought that the scent of his old body was turning his new one on.
Patrick had quickly dressed in a pair of boxer shorts socks and
a shirt and suit. The clothes didn't fit him at all and he couldn't do
all the buttons up on his shirt. There was a way he could make the suit
fit perfectly, but there was no way he'd ever turn himself back into a
man. It wasn't long before he was on his back on his bed, slowly
masturbating himself. He was so lost in the sensations that he wasn't
aware Hank had arrived until the bedroom door opened.
He could see the slightly confused look on Hank's face. "Why are
you dressed like that?"
"Just playing," Patrick repeated with a smile, "with myself."
"Have you seen Patrick today? He hasn't turned up at work."
"Nope," Patrick replied. The hand inside his pants continued to
work slowly at his excited clitoris. "I haven't seen him in ages. Don't
really care if I never see him again. Now come here; my hand is getting
tired."
"Rebecca, now isn't the time," Hank said; though he was sorely
tempted. "Could you phone around your family and find out if they know
anything?"
Patrick gave a small, annoyed sigh and sat up. He didn't want to
be reminded of his hateful male self, with its flat, hairy body. He was
beginning to regret wearing his old clothes. "I'm Patrick," he announced,
"your boss, and I'm ordering you to get over here and fuck me."
"Becky, I don't have time for games. I have to get back to work.
Didn't you get enough over the weekend?"
"I can never get enough," Patrick whispered in a voice full of
desire. "I have an unquenchable fire inside of me and it's burning for
you right now. It's making me feel so hot and tingly."
Patrick could almost see the thoughts running through Hank's
mind. Hank was weighing up the pros and cons of making love to him right
there and then. Patrick decided to give one little shove to win the
argument.
He dropped to his knees and opened the flies of Hank's pants.
Hank was already getting hard, so getting his hot length out took a little
careful effort. Patrick hungrily sucked the tip into his mouth. He had
never sucked Hank to orgasm and he was eager to rectify that.
The last part of Hank's minimal resistance melted away as Patrick
worked hungrily on his cock. Patrick massaged Hank's testicles through
his pants as he milked him. His tongue rasped over the sensitive head of
Hank's penis.
Hank reached down and grabbed a handful of Patrick's long hair.
He had to admit she was very good at blow jobs. She seemed to know
exactly how to cause the maximum amount of pleasure. He groaned deeply
and started to pump his seed into Patrick mouth.
Patrick swallowed as much of the salty cum as he could. Only when
Hank had completely softened and shrunk did he let the penis pull out of
his mouth.
Patrick stood up. His own needs were as yet unsatisfied and
sucking Hank off had only made him hornier. He started undoing Hank's
shirt, but his lover stopped him. "I have to get back to work," Hank
explained apologetically. "With Patrick missing we've fallen behind
schedule."
"Please stay," Patrick pleaded, "You make me feel so good!"
"I wish I could, baby. You promise to phone around your family
and see if Patrick has turned up or left a message?"
"Okay," Patrick agreed reluctantly, "but--"
"No arguments. You've got a bit on your chin."
"Eh?" Patrick reached up and felt a trail of cum that had escaped
from the side of his mouth.
Hank reached over and kissed Patrick on the cheek. "I'll call you
later. I better get back now." He turned and headed to the front door.
"Let me know if you find out anything."
Patrick watched, still highly turned on, as Hank left. It was
frustrating to be left unfulfilled like that, but at least Patrick had
managed to satisfy his man.
He walked back to the bed and flopped back on to it. He had no
intention of calling around his family. They had no idea what was going
on anyway, of course. He'd be able to quiet Hank's worries for now, but
at some point he was going to have to turn himself back into a man so he
could resign his job and move away.
Then with 'Patrick' out of the way he could settle down to life
with Hank as 'Becky'. The idea of wearing his old body again repulsed
him and he decided he could put that off for a few days at least. He
felt uncomfortable wearing his old male clothes now. Why had he put them
on in the first place?
He quickly undressed and went back to the spare bedroom to
continue the search for a suitable outfit to wear for Hank that evening.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"So he explained how embarrassed he was by the whole event and I
told him how we didn't blame him for it." Abigail stressed the word 'we'
and hoped that Amanda got the hint. The glare she got from Amanda told
her that the hint had been received.
"Yes..." Amanda added, less than convincingly, "we have to put
this incident behind us and move on."
"Thanks," Ian added quietly. It wasn't Amanda's anger that
distressed him the most, it was having to face up to having slept with a
man, albeit a transformed one, to Amanda and Abigail. "So, when can we
try again."
"The next holy day for Amanda's tribe is weeks away," Abigail
replied.
"We can't wait that long!" Amanda cried. "Look what he's like
after just one week!"
"This would be a lot easier if he was actually co-operating with
us instead of wandering around thinking he's a dumb blonde." Abigail
added.
"W-we have to get her away from Hank." Ian said.
Abigail noticed the use of the feminine pronoun but decided it
best to ignore Ian's slip. "He's right. Patrick entered this state after
having sex as a woman for the first time. What we need is another 'shock'
of some sort that will bring him out of it."
"I have an idea," Amanda announced. "To get this right, timing
is going to be essential. It's too late to put in operation tonight;
Patrick is probably already with Hank now. Tomorrow then, we have to be
ready. We'll probably only have one shot at this"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"What do you think of this one?" Patrick asked excitedly.
Hank suppressed a groan of annoyance and looked at the book
Patrick was holding up. It was a picture of a traditional white wedding
gown. She would look good in that, Hank admitted to himself, but she
couldn't seriously be thinking about marriage already? He had only known
her for a week. Anyway, he always broke out in a sweat at the thought of
spending the rest of his life with just one woman. "Don't you think it's
a little early to start looking at things like that."
"Not at all," Patrick replied happily. "A girl can dream, can't
she? Anyway, you'll make an honest woman of me one day, won't you?"
"I doubt anyone could do that," Hank replied with a smile.
Patrick moved closer and laid his head on Hank's chest. Hank
absentmindedly stroked Patrick's long hair. She is great in bed, he
thought, but does she have to be around me all the time? It was getting
a little wearing spending all his free time with her, even despite the
great sex they had. With a little luck, she would step back a little in
time.
Hank thought that when Patrick returned his relationship with
Becky would tail off anyway. He remembered how Patrick had made it
crystal clear he should stay away from Rebecca. Good as Becky was, it
wasn't worth risking his job over her.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
There were three places that Patrick could show up at. Amanda,
Abigail and Ian decided who would be where to wait for him. Amanda would
wait outside Patrick's apartment, Abigail would stake out Hank's
apartment. Ian had little choice; he had to be at work where he could
not only keep an eye on Hank, but also wait for Patrick to show up.
Ian was even more afraid than he had been the day before. He
tried to calm himself. He had to be ready if and when Patrick showed up.
Hank was less distracted that day than he had been previously.
Apparently, 'Rebecca' had told him that Patrick was out of town dealing
with the funeral of a distant cousin. They were very busy again and Hank
warned the team that they'd probably have to work late into the night.
They had fallen behind schedule again. Ian thought it was going to be
nearly impossible to finish the project on time without Patrick.
It was gone 7.00pm before Abigail called Ian on his mobile.
"Patrick has just arrived back at Hank's place. He had a couple of bags
of groceries with him. Looks like he's cooking dinner."
"This is too weird," Ian muttered to himself. "So what's the
plan now?"
"It's just what we agreed. Amanda is on her way over to your
office right now. You shouldn't need to do anything more."
"I still don't think it'll work."
"Listen," Abigail said with a little laugh. "You might be a man,
but you don't understand them as well as Amanda does. She knows what
buttons to press."
Ian kept as close a watch on the window as possible without
alerting Susan or the others. He was relieved to see Amanda's car
pulling into the car park fifteen minutes after the phone call. Her plan
had seemed insane when she had explained it the previous evening. It
contained far too many ifs and maybes to work.
Shortly after, Amanda appeared at the office door. Hank looked up
questioningly; he knew Patrick and Amanda had split up the previous
week. "Hi," he said uncertainly, "what's up?"
Amanda looked on the verge of tears, "I need to talk to you.
Now."
"Well...okay. We can use Patrick's office."
Together they went inside and Hank shut the door behind him.
Then he ran down the blinds to give them complete privacy.
"What's that all about?" Susan remarked.
Ian shrugged, "Haven't a clue."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Abigail was getting cold. She had been sitting in her car for
hours and the temperature had really started to drop since night had
fallen. She was beginning to have trouble staying awake. She had no idea
stakeouts were so boring.
Seeing Patrick leave the building and head towards his own car
snapped her awake. Where was he going now? Hank. He had to be going to
Hank at work.
Abigail tried to start her car, but it wouldn't go. She cursed as
she saw Patrick pull out and drive away. She wrestled with the car for
another two minutes before it finally spluttered into life. Already it
was too late to catch up with Patrick and intercept him. She got out her
mobile phone and punched in Ian's number. He was the only one who could
stop Patrick discovering Amanda and Hank together before anything had
happened between them.
It's Hard to be a Man Part Eleven
by
Stephanie
"You're going to have to stall Patrick," Abigail said over the
phone. "I won't be able to get there before he does."
"B-but what do I do?" Ian replied fearfully.
"Just talk about anything. Just keep him occupied for as long as
possible. I'll give the signal to Amanda. With luck she can get out in
time without meeting Patrick or alerting Hank. Now move!"
Ian headed as quickly as he could down to reception. His heart
was racing. What was he going to say to Patrick? He was the last person
on Earth Ian wanted to talk to. It meant having to face up to having
had sex with a man.
The minutes passed slowly and Ian was beginning to hope that
Abigail had got it wrong and Patrick had gone somewhere else. That hope
was dashed when he saw Patrick's car pull past reception and into the
car park.
Ian tried to act casual as his boss walked into reception. He
had to keep Patrick from realizing what he was doing. Despite himself,
his mouth dropped open when he saw what Patrick had on.
His boss was wearing a short, and rather tight, black
mini-skirt, a revealing blouse and a dark jacket. He also had several
rings and bracelets on. The effect was topped with make-up and clip-on
earrings. Patrick turned to look at Ian. "Hiya," he said brightly.
"Uh...hi," Ian managed to reply.
"Are you okay? You're looking an odd color."
"S-sorry, I was just thinking about what happened last time we
met." Idiot! he berated himself, couldn't you find something else to
talk about?
"It's disturbing you, isn't it?" Patrick asked softly.
"Well, yeah, obviously. I mean you're a man after all."
Patrick shook his head. "Not anymore. I'm a woman now and I
always will be. Anyway, Hank doesn't have a problem with my body."
"Of course he doesn't! He doesn't know you're Patrick!"
Pretending not to notice what he was doing, Patrick brushed back
the jacket, revealing the curve of his breast through his blouse. He was
amused to see Ian's eyes flick over his curves. Men were so easy to
control. "Look, Ian. I'm a woman, a very sexy one in fact, and I turned
you on so much you lost control. It's hardly your fault. It's a pity I'm
with Hank; you're not bad looking yourself." Patrick moved closer and was
amused to see Ian stumble backwards. "Don't worry, I don't bite. Unless
you want me to." He turned and walked over to the elevator.
It took Ian several seconds to recover and remember what he was
supposed to be doing. He barely had time to catch up with Patrick before
the elevator doors closed on him. "You... you shouldn't deceive Hank like
this. It isn't right."
"Don't be ridiculous. I'm not deceiving him. I'm exactly who I
appear to be. Anyway, what are you going to do about it? Tell Hank?"
Ian was silent. Of course he couldn't tell Hank. He'd never be
believed.
They arrived on the fourth floor and Patrick set off as fast as
he could on his high heels towards his office.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Inside Patrick's office Hank was trying to work out how to
comfort Amanda. Out of nowhere Patrick's ex-girlfriend had appeared in
some distress. "I just don't understand what happened," she said once
Hank had taken her into Patrick's office. "He changed in some way and
then he dumped me!"
"Well, he was acting a little odd last week, but I didn't see
anything really wrong with him."
Amanda shifted closer towards him. "You've never been...intimate
with him as I have. I know him better than you do. I've never known
anyone who could satisfy me the way he does. I don't know what I'll do if
I can't get him back." She knew her approach was as subtle as a smack in
the face with a baseball bat, but it seemed to be having the right effect
on Hank. He only saw a sexy woman making advances, perhaps unconsciously,
on him. If Hank was anything like Patrick used to be, then he wouldn't
pass up this opportunity. The trick would be getting out of there without
raising his suspicions before it went too far. If she managed that then
she could set Hank up in some public spot like a bar or restaurant and
then get Patrick to discover them.
They talked some more. It was obvious to Amanda that Hank was
trying to find out if she was available or not. He probably thinks he is
being subtle about it, she thought disdainfully.
Her mobile phone rang twice inside her handbag and then stopped.
Amanda pretended to ignore it, but she knew what that signal meant. It
meant Patrick was on his way here and she had to leave now. She looked
again at the desire on Hank's face. Maybe she could play this to her
advantage.
She shifted closer still to Hank and laid her hand on his arm.
"Perhaps it was for the best that Patrick left me. I've admired you
since I first saw you."
Through the door of the office she heard a familiar female voice
ask. "Is Hank around?" Patrick was here.
Hank's eyes widened in alarm, but before he could do anything
Amanda had thrown an arm around him and kissed him full on the lips. She
heard the door open before Hank could do anything.
There followed an uncomfortable silence.
Finally, Hank recovered enough sense to push Amanda away. "I can
explain, Rebecca! This isn't what it looks like."
"Bastard!" Thundered a decidedly male voice behind Amanda. She
looked up to see Hank's shocked face just seconds before Patrick's fist
hit it. Hank toppled backwards and thumped his head on the desk as he
went down.
Amanda turned around to see a very angry, and very male, Patrick.
His female clothes were stretched almost to breaking point by his larger,
masculine form. He glared at Amanda and she worried a little for her own
safety.
Then his body rippled and shrank as he regained his female form.
Without waiting to straighten his clothes, Patrick fled from the room in
some distress.
Susan watched Patrick leave and then went into the office. "What
the hell is going on?" she demanded.
"Ah, it's a little complicated," Amanda replied wryly. "Give me a
hand with Hank."
Together they hauled the disorientated man into a chair. As Susan
went looking for the first-aid box, Hank tried to piece together what had
happened. He had a confused memory of hearing Becky's voice and then
seeing Patrick - in a skirt? - bearing down on him. He quickly dismissed
the absurd vision and held his aching head.
Deciding that he'd be alright, Amanda slipped out of the office.
She hurried out into the hallway and over to the elevator. She was glad
that was over with. She had hated doing that as it made her feel a bit
dirty. Never mind, it appeared to have had the desired effect. Only time
would tell if it had truly worked, though.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Patrick had had to stop driving as he could no longer see the
road through his tears. He had no clear idea where he was going anyway,
so he pulled over to the side of the road to calm down.
How could Hank have been so stupid? They had been perfect
together and now Hank had ruined it. All Patrick's plans of marriage and
children were in tatters.
Marriage? What on Earth was he thinking of? Hank was a good
friend, but he wouldn't marry him. In that case, a part of his mind
remarked, why have you spent the last four days in bed with him?
Patrick's mind whirled in shock. He had done just that. He had
made love as a woman and thoroughly enjoyed it! Just as he had feared,
the man he had fallen in love with was Hank.
He remembered Abigail telling him that he was in shock from the
first time he had had sex as a woman. At the time he had thought she had
gone mad, as he had never felt better. Now, however, he could see the
truth of what she had said. His male psyche had been unable to deal with
what he had done, so it had simply shut down and been replaced by a
female one.
If only Abigail had managed to stop him escaping his apartment
on Friday and had succeeded in breaking the curse. Patrick's stomach
gave another lurch as he remembered how he had escaped by giving Ian a
blowjob and then breaking free.
He couldn't turn back into a man just yet; the clothes he had on
were too obviously feminine. He calmed himself down, dried his eyes with
a tissue, and started driving again. He would go back to his apartment
and dress in his male clothes. Then he'd burn every piece of female
clothing in the place.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Ian rode his motorbike the few streets to where Abigail and
Amanda were waiting.
"Did Hank see Patrick turn male?" was Amanda's first question.
"I don't think so," Ian replied. "He seemed more worried about
what Patrick would do when he found out. He wasn't too happy you'd
disappeared either."
"Typical," Amanda remarked, "he wanted two women at once and now
he's surprised he's lost both."
"The big question, though," Abigail pointed out, "is: Has this
worked? Are we still dealing with 'Rebecca', or is Patrick back in
charge?"
"I hope it worked," Ian said fervently, "I do not want to go
through that again."
"You two get some rest," Abigail said. "You've done everything
possible for one night. I'll go over to his apartment alone and see what
sort of state he's in."
Amanda was a little reluctant at leaving at that point. She
wanted to know if her plan had worked. Ian, however, was only too happy
to get home and relax.
Abigail's car was still playing up a little, but it worked well
enough to allow her to reach Patrick's apartment building. She knocked
quietly at the door to his apartment and waited. She wished her own
psychic powers were good enough to see if he was in there or not.
She knocked again and waited nervously. She was about to leave
when she heard a movement behind the door. Then the door opened a crack
and she was relieved to see Patrick's male face poking around it. He
looked so forlorn that she couldn't help but feel sorry for him.
Without saying a word, Patrick let her into the apartment. They
looked at each other in silence for several long seconds. Finally Patrick
spoke, "You three planned that, didn't you?"
"Yes," she admitted, "it was Amanda's idea, but we all went along
with it. It was a desperate move, but we had to do something. I'm really
sorry, Patrick."
He signed and slumped down in an armchair. "I don't think I've
ever been so happy than I was this weekend. Everything was perfect. Or
so it seemed at the time. Now I can't believe a quarter of the things
I've done in the last few days. I was totally and completely in love
with Hank. I would have done anything for him. Anything! I was even
playing with the idea of getting pregnant! I thought that would bind us
together forever. I probably wouldn't have seen him for dust if I had
told him he was going to be a father." Patrick's hand flew to his belly.
"You don't think I did get pregnant? We didn't use any protection!"
"It probably doesn't matter. You're a man right now and even
if... something did happen... it probably disappeared when you turned
male."
Patrick managed a weak smile, "That's probably a good thing. I
don't think I'd make a good Mom." He was uncomfortably aware that a part
of him was upset by the idea of a lost child.
"I really, truly, am sorry about all this," Abigail told him. "We
will do everything we can to sort this out, but it is going to be a few
weeks before we can perform the ceremony again."
"I'm stuck like this for several more weeks?" he asked
despairingly. "I'd forgotten the strain it took just to stay male. I can
feel the pressure already building within me."
"Perhaps you should take the next few weeks off work. Just until
everything is sorted out."
"I can't do that! There's far too much to do."
"It can wait," she replied exasperated, "Your health is more
important."
"Don't worry, Abigail. I'll be fine."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, but I want you to call either me, Amanda or Ian if you
need help."
"I will," he replied. He felt a little reticent at going for
Amanda or Ian for help, but it wasn't like he'd have much choice. He
would have to depend on these three considerably over the next few weeks.
He hadn't needed to be supported like that since before he had gone to
University and it hurt his male pride a little.
Abigail didn't want to leave Patrick alone, but he insisted. He
said he had a lot of things to think through so she left him to it.
After she had left, Patrick returned to the main room and sat
back in the chair. His emotions were a jumbled mess and nothing seemed
certain anymore. His affair with Hank went against every fibre of his
being and yet, it had felt good to be held in those powerful arms.
He winced as he remembered how he had tricked Ian into freeing
him. He was a good few years younger than Patrick, but he was so cute.
Patrick wished he could stop those odd little thoughts entering his head.
He knew it wasn't a sign that he might snap back into sex-kitten mode,
but it showed that his whole perception of the world had been permanently
altered.
Soon, he was going to have to change into a woman again. Every
second spent male meant he had to expend effort to stop himself changing
sex. He was going to have to spend most evenings as a woman to give
himself the mental energy to last the day at work as a man.
This was a battle he could win, he decided. All he had to do was
hold back the female desires for the several weeks necessary. Then, when
fully male again, the female desires would slowly disappear. A part of
him didn't truly believe he had the stamina. The way he had so
disastrously lost control before deeply worried him. The knowledge of
what could happen if he slipped again only increased his determination to
resist it.
He allowed his body to turn female again. He was relieved to find
that his mind didn't change as well as his body. It looked like 'Becky'
was gone for good. He just wished that his male body felt half as
comfortable and familiar as this one did.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The office was filled with a tense atmosphere the next morning.
Everyone was worried about something different, but it all led back to
'Becky'.
Hank was worried about what Becky might have said to Patrick. She
had been a weird girl, but very good in bed. He still couldn't make any
sense about what Amanda had been up to the previous evening. It was
almost as if she had been trying to drive a wedge between himself and
Becky, but why would she want to do that? He wondered if Amanda really
was available. It would be best to leave that well alone as he was
probably in enough trouble over Becky as it was.
Ian was terrified about meeting Patrick for the first time since
his boss regained his senses. How would Patrick react to what he and Ian
had done together?
Susan was wondering what the hell was going on with everyone and
how it could affect her job.
Outside in the car park, Patrick was trying to calm himself down
before heading up to the office. He had let his body become mostly female
so he would be able to concentrate on driving. Now he had reached work,
he gathered his will together and concentrated until his body turned
fully male again. He adjusted his clothing and then headed inside the
building and into the elevator.
He worried over meeting Hank again. How could their friendship
survive the intimacy they had shared? Even if only one of them knew they
had been intimate with the other.
"Hiya, Patrick!" Hank said smiling broadly as Patrick walked
into the office. "I was sorry to hear about your cousin." Hank's eye was
bruised and swollen.
Patrick remembered the cover story he had given as Becky to
explain his disappearance. "It's okay, we weren't that close, but there
was no-one else to deal with everything." He frowned at Hank's black
eye. "What happened to you?"
"Oh, that," Hank said and laughed a little nervously. "I...uh...
walked into a door."
Patrick couldn't help but smile at the lame excuse. "I hope she
was worth it."
Hank relaxed a little. He assumed by Patrick's attitude that his
friend and boss had no idea what had happened between him and Becky.
"She was."
Patrick looked up at the rest of his staff. He saw Ian at the
back looking nervous. "Right, we've got a lot to do, and no time to do it
in. So I need one-hundred and ten percent effort from all of you today."
He headed into his inner office and sighed at the mountain of
work. It had certainly built up while he had been playing the bimbo. He
settled down behind his desk and relaxed his control on the lower half
of his body.
Within a few seconds his hips widened as he felt a by now
familiar pulling sensation in his crotch as he turned physically female.
He squirmed in his chair to get comfortable and then turned to the
reports.
Despite his attempts to concentrate on the files, he couldn't
help but return to thinking about his condition. It was only natural that
his female form would feel more comfortable than his male one as he had
spent so much time in recent days as a woman.
As the hours passed his headache started to return with a
vengeance. If only he could be a woman and keep his job, he thought to
himself. Then he wouldn't feel so sick all the time. It was, of course,
impossible as his female self did not officially exist, had no
qualifications and had no job history.
Was being a woman so bad anyway? As long as he kept his own mind
instead of becoming Becky again. Sex on the opposite side had been
fantastic. Patrick looked through the glass partition at the rest of the
office. He'd always see Hank, Ian and perhaps all men in a different way
from now on. He could now see the beauty in men's bodies. He found
himself scanning male bodies just as much as female ones. That was
discomforting to him, and he hoped that his bisexuality would fade in
time. Even if it did, he doubted it would be a door that would ever
fully close.
By lunchtime, his headache was getting serious. He knew he'd need
to take time-out and rest in his female form at Abigail's bookshop.
Patrick would have preferred to have set an example to the rest of his
staff and work though his lunch break, but he knew he'd never survive
the day if he did.
Barely able to keep his body male, he headed down and out of the
building and over to Abigail's shop. Patrick sensed someone following him
and he turned to see Ian a few feet behind him.
Ian looked embarrassed, "I-I need to talk to you."
Patrick nodded. If anything, Ian was more disturbed about what
had happened between them than Patrick was. "Okay, let's keep walking. I
need to get to Abigail's for a break."
Ian clearly didn't want to say anything in public so they walked
in silence the short distance to the New Age bookstore.
Abigail smiled as she saw Patrick enter. "How are you?"
"Splitting headache, but other than that, I'm okay." Patrick
replied. He could see she was surprised Ian was with him. "Could I ask
a favor?"
"Of course," Abigail replied.
"Ian and me need to talk in private and..."
"Say no more," Abigail interrupted. "Go on upstairs."
"Thanks, Abigail."
Abigail smiled at Ian as he passed her on his way upstairs. He
smiled back nervously and then followed Patrick up the narrow stairs to
Abigail's apartment.
Patrick slumped down in an armchair when he got there and undid
the top few buttons of his shirt. Ian was about to ask Patrick why he was
doing that when Patrick's body started to writhe and change.
Ian's jaw dropped open as he watched his boss' body turn female.
He had never seen the change up close before. His eyes ran over the
voluptuous woman's body enclosed in a male suit with a mixture of horror
and lust. Despite himself, Patrick's feminine form was turning him on. He
consciously avoided looking down Patrick's exposed cleavage. This only
confirmed that the decision he had reached was the right one.
Patrick broke the silence, "So, what did you want to talk about?"
he asked in, what seemed to Ian, a devastatingly sexy female voice.
"Well..." Ian started. "I can't get over what happened, and being
around you and Hank every day only makes it worse. I've decided to
resign. It'd be better for both of us if we didn't see each other."
"You don't need to do that," Patrick replied quietly. He could
see how much pain Ian was in. "The last few days have been traumatic for
all of us, but we can work it out. In time everything will get back to
normal."
Ian's realized his gaze had slipped down to Patrick's barely
concealed breasts again. He looked away and shuddered. "You don't
understand. Part of me doesn't want anything to change; it wants you so
much. That's why I have to back off." Patrick took in several long gasps
to try to calm himself down. "I gotta go," he said abruptly before
bolting for the stairs down to the shop.
"Ian, wait up!" Patrick called, but Ian didn't listen and was
out the shop as fast as he could go.
Patrick walked over to the window and watched Ian run off. He
could feel tears in the corners of his eyes, but couldn't quite work out
why he felt so sad.
It's Hard to be a Man Part Twelve
by
Stephanie
Patrick stumbled into his apartment and shut the door behind
him. He almost hadn't made it. Despite his best efforts he already had
the breasts of a teenage girl.
Now that he was in the safety of his own home he could relax. He
quickly undid the top few buttons of his shirt as his mammaries grew to
fill it. He sighed and leant against the door as the rest of his body
turned feminine.
Perhaps he had been a little over-confident in thinking he could
last the several weeks until Amanda could perform the ritual that would
break his curse. At least now he wouldn't have to stand it alone. He had
Amanda, Abigail and Ian to help him now. He thought about Ian again and
his heart lurched.
Why did Ian have to go and resign? Patrick had faced up to what
had happened between them and he could live with it. Why couldn't Ian?
Patrick walked into the bathroom and stripped off his ill-fitting
male clothes and pulled on a bathrobe. He pushed his long, blonde hair
out of his eyes and looked at himself in the mirror. Even after all that
had happened he was still surprised to see a woman staring back at him.
A very attractive woman too, even if he did say so himself. That
was part of Ian's problem. Patrick's female form was very attractive to
him and the younger man simply didn't know how to deal with those
feelings. Now he was going to run away rather than deal with them.
Patrick fixed himself a light meal and then headed to the spare
bedroom. Inside was the large pile of female clothing he had bought. He
had intended to burn the lot when he had regained his senses the previous
day. When he sorted out the underwear he needed for his female form he
realized he couldn't bring himself to get rid of the rest.
Most of the lingerie was designed more for appeal than
functionality. He picked up a pink satin bra and rubbed the slippery
fabric between his fingers. An idea formed. Ian needed to face his fears
rather than run away from them, Patrick decided.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Ian looked through all the papers and magazines he had bought.
There wasn't many jobs on offer in advertising and most that were there
wanted far more experience than he had. As much as he hated the idea, he
was going to have to get another, lower paid, job in some area he wasn't
interested in and hope that something worthwhile turned up later.
He didn't want to leave his job - he had been happy there - but
he really didn't have that much choice. The alternative was to work with
Patrick and he couldn't face that. He remembered how Patrick had given
him the blowjob of his life. The memory was so intense that he could
almost feel Patrick's hot mouth working on him.
He felt a stirring in his pants from the memory and then felt
disgusted with himself. This was a man he was fantasizing about! If only
his boss had always been a woman. It was impossible to deny that, when he
was a woman, Patrick had a great body.
This wasn't helping. He refocused on the paper in front of him.
The sooner he could find a new job the better.
The doorbell rang and he looked up in annoyance. It was probably
Abigail, again. She was only trying to help, but she seemed like she
wanted to mother him too much at times.
He opened the door, looked up and froze. It wasn't Abigail.
Patrick was standing there holding a six-pack in one hand.
Ian couldn't stop his gaze from rolling over Patrick. His boss
was wearing a simple black dress. The dress ended long before it reached
his knees and underneath Patrick was wearing some dark tights or
stockings. She (he, Ian corrected himself) even had black shoes with
three-inch spike heels on them.
"Are you going to invite me in?" Patrick asked sweetly.
Ian's gaze snapped to Patrick's face. She's wearing make-up, he
thought. As far as Ian could tell, it had been applied reasonably well at
least. Patrick even had gold clip on earrings and a matching necklace and
bracelet.
What is she doing here? Ian thought in a panic and stepped
backwards away from Patrick. His boss took that as an invitation and
stepped into Ian's apartment, shutting the door behind him. "We need to
talk."
"I-I've said all I've got to say. It'd be best if we didn't see
each other."
"Nonsense," Patrick replied and sat down in an armchair. "We need
to work things out. I'm not about to lose one of the best members of my
team without a fight. Sit down."
Ian obeyed, finding a chair opposite Patrick. Unconsciously, his
eyes ran up his boss' shapely legs and widened in shock when he realized
that the way Patrick was sitting, he could see that it _was_ stockings
that the transformed man had on, and there was a pair of matching black
panties to go with them.
Patrick saw Ian's eyes almost pop out of his head. He shifted in
his chair and crossed his legs. "Sorry, I keep forgetting to do that when
I have a skirt on."
"Why..." Ian started, but his throat was dry. He cleared it and
started again, "Why are you dressed like that?"
"I have to spend my evenings female to have the strength to stay
male at work, you know that."
"Did you need to wear... that a-and make-up and stuff."
"My father brought me up never to run away from stuff I feared,
and that's exactly what you're doing now." Patrick pulled a can from the
six-pack and opened it. "Have one yourself. Go on, it's low-alcohol,
there's no way you can get drunk on this stuff."
Ian hesitated and then grabbed a can for himself. His hands were
shaking so much, he had difficulty opening it.
"So," Patrick said suddenly, making Ian jump, "what exactly is
the problem?"
"Huh?"
"What exactly is making you so frightened. Are you scared by the
way I change? Do you think I'm some sort of freak or what?"
"No, no. You're not a freak."
"Well, that's something," Patrick replied with a smile that made
Ian's heart melt. "So what is it? Tell me. After the last few days I
doubt there's anything left that can surprise me."
"I love you," Ian's jaw clamped shut, but it was already out. The
words seemed to reverberate around the room for what - to Ian - seemed
like hours.
Ian's words seemed to echo in Patrick's head. Over the years
women had said exactly the same thing to him time and again, but it
wasn't the fact that it was being said by a man that so affected him. It
was because, for the first time, he actually cared.
"I'm s-sorry," Ian said. "I didn't mean to say that," he laughed
weakly. "You only just got out of a relationship with a man. You don't
want to go through that again."
"Not the same," Patrick replied. "This is something totally
different. And while you probably didn't mean to say it, you did mean
it."
Ian tried to deny it, but his protests died in his throat. He
_did_ mean it, that was the problem. "Yeah, that might be true, but I
feel really uncomfortable about this and I don't want to sleep with you."
Patrick raised an eyebrow in a look that clearly said he didn't
believe Ian. "I came here to talk, not sleep with you," he added gently.
"What got you interested in advertising?"
Ian was a little surprised at the mundane question, but moving
the topic away from sex helped him to relax.
The hours passed as the conversation meandered around many
different subjects. At one point they were arguing about football. Ian
knew it was a bit sexist, but he still found it odd to be talking to a
woman who knew far more about the sport than he did.
Patrick made a very intelligent, witty and beautiful woman. If
only he truly was one. However, as the hours passed Ian found his fear
of Patrick receding.
It was gone 2.00am when Patrick finally said he should be getting
home. "So we can forget this nonsense about you quitting, then?" he asked
as he opened the front door.
"Yeah. Thanks for coming over. I really did need to sort out my
feelings about you."
"We've both had thoughts and feelings in the last week we would
never have believed we'd have in a million years. Doesn't make them wrong
though, does it?"
"No," Ian replied uncertainly. What exactly did Patrick mean by
that?
"Seeya tomorrow," Patrick said brightly, "well later this
morning, I mean."
"Yeah." Ian went back into his apartment and shut the door. Five
hours before he had to be up for work, and he knew he wasn't going to get
a minute's sleep.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
"So you think you've talked him out of resigning?" Abigail asked
Patrick.
Patrick tugged his pants, trying to make himself more
comfortable. They were always uncomfortably tight when he had female
hips. He settled down in Abigail's chair. He was on his lunchbreak and
had made his way to Abigail's shop as usual. "Yeah, but it has affected
him in a way I never thought possible."
"How so?"
"This goes no further, you understand?" Patrick warned.
"Cross my heart," Abigail said and then leaned closer, "now what
has Ian done?"
"He said 'I love you'. I don't know who was more surprised, me or
him."
Abigail nodded, "He always did look ill at ease when you were
female. It's not that surprising, you make a good-looking woman."
"Thanks," Patrick replied absentmindedly.
Abigail smiled. Just a few days earlier Patrick would have flown
into a rage at such a comment. "I can see that attraction isn't just one
way."
Patrick started guiltily and looked up at Abigail. "It's that
obvious?"
"Well, you don't seemed repulsed by the idea, do you?"
Patrick sighed, "Why am I attracted to him?"
"He's cute and very appealing in a vulnerable sort of way."
"That's not what I meant and you know it. I'm a man."
"Firstly, being a man is no reason not to be attracted to another
man and, as I've pointed out before, you're not a man at the moment."
"Is that all this feeling is? Just hormones?"
"Perhaps," Abigail replied thoughtfully, "but maybe not. When you
were 'Rebecca' and you were off with Hank, that was just hormones."
Patrick couldn't help mulling over the situation all afternoon as
he tried to concentrate on his work. Was he truly attracted to Ian or was
it just his female body playing tricks on him again?
"Patrick? Can I have a word?"
He looked up to see Ian nervous face poking around the door of
his office. "Sure, come in." Patrick replied. Ian entered and shut the
door behind him.
"You're not trying to quit again?" Patrick asked.
"No!" Ian replied with a nervous laugh, "Um...I just happen to
have a reservation for two at The Green Room this evening and I was just
wondered if...perhaps...you'd...um...like to go."
Patrick was amused by Ian's hesitantly, but he could feel his
heart beating faster at the idea. "Just happened to have a reservation?"
he asked.
"Yes, you don't have to if you don't want to," Ian added
hurriedly.
"It's a good restaurant, I'd love to, Ian."
Ian beamed a great big smile of relief, "T-that's excellent!
I'll...um...pick you up at eight, if that's okay?"
"Eight o'clock is fine. I'm looking forward to it."
Ian wandered out of the office with a big grin on his face, that
he tried to hide when Susan frowned at him.
"Did you get a raise or something?" she asked him.
"Something like that," Ian replied.
She looked at him suspiciously and wondered why everyone had
suddenly started acting so strange recently.
Back in his office, Patrick tried to concentrate on his work, but
it was no good. As usual while he was at his desk he was only keeping his
top half male. He could feel the dampness in his underpants and the
longing in his groin. He knew he couldn't really deny the desires anymore
and he started wondering if tonight would be 'the night'.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Arbreth Llerven clath--"
"No, no, no." Abigail said interrupting Amanda. "It's cleth not
clath. You have to be absolutely syllable perfect or you'll turn him into
a chicken or worse."
"How can you be sure you know the correct pronunciation anyway?"
"Years of study and knowledge. Let's take a break. There's no
point in getting too exhausted and I think you won't need to do this
ritual after all."
"Why not?" Amanda asked suspiciously.
Abigail winced. "Ah... nothing."
"Abigail," Amanda asked slowly, "what's going on? Is there another
way to stop Patrick turning into a woman?"
"No... the ritual is the only way I know."
"Then what did you mean?"
"I promised not to tell. It's probably not important anyway."
Amanda was starting to seethe. "If you won't tell me then I'll
ask Patrick." She pulled out her mobile phone and dialed Patrick's home
number. Abigail knew that Patrick probably wasn't there, but decided to
keep quiet.
Getting no reply, Amanda tried Patrick's mobile number, but he
had switched it off. "He's not there," she announced.
"Perhaps he's gone out," Abigail said.
"We both know he needs to spend his evening female to recuperate
from staying male all day. In fact, after the strain of the day it's
virtually impossible for him to stay male."
"Yes. So?" Abigail knew where this was going, but couldn't see a
way to avoid it.
"So, he's gone out, as a woman."
"Possibly. What does it matter? He can't spend the next few weeks
stuck in his apartment."
"He's gone out, as a woman, alone, and you let him?!"
"He's not actually alone--" Abigail clamped her mouth shut, but
it was too late.
"Who is he with? Just tell me."
"Ian."
"And where are they?"
"I truly don't know that. All I know is they're going to a
restaurant."
"Ian and Patrick, at a restaurant." The look of puzzlement
quickly changed to horror. "We've got to find them, quick!" Amanda got
to her feet and strode over to the narrow stairs leading down to
Abigail's shop. She turned to see Abigail still sitting down. "Don't you
see? His 'Rebecca' persona is coming back! We have to get to him before
he totally loses control again!"
"I don't think that's happening." Abigail replied, but Amanda was
already racing down the stairs.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Ian rang Patrick's doorbell ten minutes early. Patrick was
tempted to get Ian to wait, as he had been forced to many times by women
over the years.
He had spent every second since getting home preparing for the
date. Choosing the outfit he would wear had been surprisingly difficult.
Women had far more choice in what they could wear and he wanted to be
sure that it gave the right message to Ian. If only he could decide
exactly what message to send. In the end he chose a green dress that was
slightly more conservative than most of his female clothes. Even so, it
still revealed a great deal of leg and cleavage. Patrick knew he had to
be careful with Ian. If he pushed to hard he might scare the younger man
off.
He had just finished getting ready when Ian arrived. In the event,
he didn't leave Ian waiting. Instead he rushed to the door and opened it.
Ian's jaw dropped at the sight of his boss standing there. The
green dress really showed off Patrick's curves well. It left his
shoulders bare and fitted snugly around his midriff before flaring
around his legs.
Patrick smiled at Ian's stunned look and twirled around, "What
do you think?" he asked.
Ian opened and closed his mouth several times as he tried to
think of something coherent to say. It had taken him all morning to
gather the nerve to ask Patrick out. After his boss had said yes, Ian
had spent all afternoon panicking about the upcoming date.
In his female form, Patrick was everything Ian wanted in a
woman. Intelligent, witty and devastatingly beautiful. What was the
problem was that Ian didn't consider himself gay, yet surely that was
the sort of relationship he was asking for if he started dating Patrick?
Finally, fortified with a couple of drinks, Ian had arrived at
Patrick's apartment. As he had rung the doorbell he had been filled with
the certainty that Patrick would laugh at him once he opened the door
and tell him he had just been joking.
Instead, here was Patrick in a truly beautiful outfit, a woman
ready for her date.
"You look incredible, Patrick." Ian finally managed to say.
"Thank you, Ian. You looking good yourself. Call me Pat, though.
People will stare if you call me Patrick."
"They're going to stare anyway."
"Thanks, I think." Patrick replied with a smile.
As they waited in the elevator, Ian hesitantly put his arm around
Patrick. This was a very strange situation, Patrick realized, but there
was no doubt in his mind. This was the right thing to do. He put his arm
around Ian and pulled him closer.
They had to take Patrick's car as Ian only had his motorbike.
Ian was a little embarrassed by this, as he had arranged the date and he
felt he should do all the work.
Patrick had wined and dined many women over the years, but this
was a unique experience for him. For the first time, it wasn't him the
waiters turned to, but his companion. A small cough was needed to remind
Ian he was supposed to help Patrick into his chair. He fought to hide a
smile as Ian struggled with the wine list, before dropping a couple of
hints on what to select.
Ian was too nervous to engage in much conversation, but the eye
contact between the two spoke volumes. As the dinner progressed to the
final course, Patrick slid his stockinged foot out of his shoe and rubbed
it slowly against Ian's leg. Ian jumped as if he had been shot, before
smiling at Patrick.
Patrick knew Ian's thoughts were turning to what could happen
later as much as his were. The question he asked himself was a new one.
Should he go all the way on a first date? The question had never been
worth asking before.
But there was something between them. Something that Patrick
hadn't felt at all with Hank and only a few times with all the women he
had been with. But was it love or just his new hormones at work?
He finally gave up asking himself the question. It was impossible
to work out there and then, only time would tell. Forget the future, he
told himself, just concentrate on the now.
"No, we don't have a reservation! I just need to talk to those
two over there!"
Ian and Patrick both turned at the unmistakable sound of Amanda's
voice. She was arguing with the head waiter while a fairly embarrassed
Abigail stood by.
"Ian!" she yelled. "What the hell do you think you're doing? You
know his mind is still out of it!"
Ian saw the other diners looking at him and felt his face go red.
"Come on," Patrick said angrily, "let's get out of here."
TO BE CONTINUED...
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